Sour Peppermints
by TheRecorder
Summary: I was drafted against my will, bound by an unfair contract, and put on display like a circus animal! Kyoya-teme is driving me insane and now my sorry story-teller hide has become the host club's dog! And my dear sister Rin? So not helping the cause here!
1. Host Club's Dog

**Disclaimer:** If I owned Host Club, _Kyoya_ would be the main character

* * *

I should have never agreed to show Rin where it was. I should have said, 'Find your own bloody host club', or something like that. She was able to find it fine, I'm sure. She could have at least followed one of them too, I mean, she knew each one by name. She was like a Santa Claus or something. For hosts. Whatever. Considering the consequences, I think I would have far better enjoyed skipping the entire experience. And all the other ones too. Then again, if I hadn't come, I would have nothing to tell about, would I?

I shot Rin a look. The sign proclaiming 'Third Music Room' protruded proudly before the door, as innocent as can be. Yeah, innocent. Remember that word. It'll be disproved later.

"You're on your own," I informed her, "I'm not following you in there. The last thing I need is to be reported for 'ignoring the uniform when it's available'." I mimed sarcastic quotation marks.

Rin smiled, "Humor me. I need information on this club to infer their potential for opposition if an espionage club was ever formed."

"Your club, your problem," I said bluntly.

"I'll pay you."

"Always glad to help." I smiled winningly.

What can I say? We were in class C for a reason, and that is that our parents are divorced. Rin gets the benefits being heir to the Westing toy empire, but a large publishing company owned by Taylor Harding (IV) doesn't get the pocket money perks that she gets. To put it simply, I, Taylor Harding the Fifth, am flat broke.

I opened the door to the third music room grudgingly, that replacement moped I've wanted since I totaled my own on a tree in mind. Rin followed, and not a moment too soon. The door slammed shut behind me as I was assaulted with a sight I really should have been prepared for.

_Hot!_ It was unbelievable. I've been briefed a billion times by other students the basic looks and complete beauty of the seven hosts, but they were _gorgeous_! Like gods or something.

And they were all looking at us. All of them.

I presumed the one in the middle was Tamaki by that blond, blond hair and those really weird eyes. He's supposed to be French or something I think.

"Oh look," he said surprised, "those two are twins as well, though they seem fraternal."

I looked between Rin and myself and realized what he meant. There was Rin, whose perfect mahogany waves had been daintily tied up with ribbons away from her face, and there was me, a ragged dirty brown dust mop, bangs too long before my eyes, and falling in uneven clumps to my shoulders from long periods of neglected grooming. There was Rin, yellow uniform clean and pristine, and me, who shunned the frills against policy and wore my customary cargo shorts and oversized red and white hoodie that no one wants to know the last time I washed. There was Rin, kind smile and soft russet eyes looking benignly upon all who was graced by her presence, and the other one, me, with sneer and defiant mud-brown glare slapped across my partially hidden features, looking like I was about to vandalize the place.

It was a shock that they realized we were related to begin with. I had to look like a guy to them.

_This is my chance,_ I thought and readied to turn around and march out right as the twin brothers slid up to Rin and me.

"Yep, definitely twins, milord," one said, scrutinizing our faces, "I wonder if this one is like Bossa Nova-san? You know," the twins straightened in tandem and wiggled their hands (and eyebrows) in unison, "wavy."

_Gay_. I thought, _they mean I'm gay._

I was really getting tired of this situation really fast. I blame lack of breakfast.

"Shut up," I spat disgustedly, slapping away their hands, "As if I would care what kind of crap you completely asinine organization thought I was. I'm deeply sorry I even had the very _notion_ of escorting Rin to this place. Besides, is this place open?" I challenged, "No one is here. Is the almighty Host Club not as wanted as it's advertised?"

Too late, I clapped my hand over my mouth. I was destined to be mobbed by their adoring customers now, I was sure of it.

I was surprised, of course, when the first words spoken were not, as I expected, 'Sic 'im!', but rather, "Kyo-kun, what does 'asinine' mean?" the cute jester cocked his head at me. That had to be Hunny. No question about it.

"It means utterly stupid," replied the nobleman dryly, pushing up his glasses, evidently Kyoya, "He seems to not like our little club that much, wouldn't you say?" He looked calmly over his glasses at me, "Apparently not enough to know we aren't open during class hours."

Did I mention I was cutting last period? 'Cause I was. Another reason why I shouldn't have walked into a room full of people willing to report me. Ah, the things money will make one gloss over.

I turned, only to find Rin was gone. A note she couldn't possibly have had time to write was taped to the door. 'I have collected all that I needed'. Then why the hell desert me?!

I turned back around, to find Hunny was staring incredibly cutely at, and standing incredibly closer to, me, "You don't mean what you said, do you?"

It wasn't fair. He shouldn't be that cute. I nervously backed up. The squire, who was probably Haruhi, moved to stand by the statue near my elbow. I didn't know at the time it was only to prevent its breaking. To me it looked nothing less than I was being surrounded.

"If you are not homo," Tamaki stated quite simply, "then you are obviously not here as a customer. Your twin ran away, so you can't be an escort."

"I-"

"You must be here for the job," he smiled sweetly. Please don't say he meant _that_ job.

I stared in disbelief and Haruhi sighed and shook his head. Of course I was thinking more like, _Huh?!_

"Taylor Harding, Class 1-C," Kyoya read briskly from a ledger, "Parents are the toy store tycoon heiress Jasmine Westing and publishing giant Taylor Harding. Twin sister Rin Westing," he snapped it closed decisively, "It is clear Taylor Harding has no intention of becoming a host, but the position of Host Club's dog is now vacant, so welcome to the team, Harding-san." He gave me a chilly smile.

My jaw dropped as the twins muttered, "Shadow King." _Bastard,_ however, is the only word on my mind, _this Kyoya's an evil bastard._

This knowledge is far less reassuring to me than it would be to any other person.

"Well then, Harding-kun, since you are now our dog, I guess you need a name."

"I already have a name! And I never agreed to work for you!"

"Puppy-chan, then!" Tamaki smiled.

"Ty-Ty!" Hunny cried happily.

The two twins exchanged mischievous looks, "Peppermint!" They said in unison.

I was still in shock with the fact those stupid posters were for real when Kyoya presented me with a paper with a lot of really small type.

"Your contract," he said with a smile. _My _what_?!_

* * *

"…so now I'm the Host Club's dog!" I moaned later to Rin, telling my story without my usual flair, "they even made take down a bunch of spoof wanted ads posted around the school for a servant!"

"Kyoya Ootori," she said slowly after a pause, "is he…?"

"_Yes!_" I moaned, "Yes. He's a clever, evil, shadow bastard and he drew up this contract that is totally one-sided and I have to practically write my name in blood or else he threatened me with his black-op force and oh what am I going to do, Rin?" I collapsed beside her, out of breath, "Of all the clubs to be drafted into, it has to be the one with the manipulative bastard in it, running my employment!" I groaned, aggravated.

"Oh dear," Rin pondered, "and that odd attraction of yours."

"Yes," I cried, "That thing I have for snarky guys. This bites! However,… there some things in my favor," I realized, straightening and began ticking them off on my fingers, "Other than that annoying power that I curse the heavens for bestowing that bastards like Kyoya-teme have over me," I shook my fist dramatically to the ceiling to make my point, "I fortunately feel almost no true attraction for any of them at all. Nothing more than hormones initially reacting to their looks, their personalities are far too hard to like," Except Haruhi. But it's not like he seems to really like the whole host thing, "They still don't know I'm a girl, so I can build up immunity against their charms if the secret ever does get out." Because obviously, I don't do well in the situations that most girls excel at; acting like a girl, in this case, a flattered girl.

"Except for Kyoya-san."

"Except for Kyoya-san," I agreed, then cursed, "Damn, he's smart too. My thing for snarks can _never_ get out, especially to him. If I remain under the guise of a guy long enough, I may be able to erect some barriers to him. Maybe. I won't let him get the best of me. I will not be Host Club's dog," I finished in decisive determination.

"Positive thinking, good. Though," Rin added thoughtfully, "judging by your descriptions, I doubt you ever will be used that easily. They obviously don't know you as I."

"For now," I decided, smiling at her comment, "I'll just avoid being alone with Kyoya-teme. Luckily they don't know my talent either. If I should ever be in a situation where it could show through, I'm royally screwed."

I looked down at my hands, "What's that, three things? Better than two."

"Hey Peppermint!"

I looked up, and to my dismay, saw Hikaru heading our way. I grimaced.

"Peppermint, will you go fetch us more commoners' coffee?"

"They named you?" Rin whispered disbelievingly.

"Hunny calls me Ty-Ty, Tamaki calls me Puppy-chan, and the twins call me Peppermint for my hoodie," I gritted out, standing to fetch their damn coffee.

"Be quick about it, Peppermint!" Dark thoughts indeed ran through my mind when Hikaru said this. Mostly involving where he could shove that coffee.

I was too far away to know that, hidden from our view by a column, Kyoya said quietly, "So Harding's really a girl, huh. That's useful to know."

If I had known this, I would have punched the smirk off his face and incinerated it on the spot.

Growling about pet names, I returned soon with the coffee and thrust it at Tamaki, "Here take it."

I stormed off without waiting for a response, cursing the fact that linage instead of wealth was more important at Ouran. With my broken heritage from the divorce of my parents, I was truly relegated to C class. Rin, though, fared better than me despite. She was already well ahead of the class and I caught one teacher saying how she belonged in B. About time they figured it out.

* * *

"…And as I came back, I _know_ I heard the girls giggle 'Peppermint'! I felt like I could punch some one." I told my tale to my sister with my usual flair, holding up a fist for emphasis, "Or just all of them."

My sister may have inherited the skills of a reporter, okay, a _spy_, from my father, but _I_ had gotten the natural dramatic storytelling from my mother, the irony, you see lies in the custody to the contrary; I being my father's heir (in looks too, just not as handsome. Or at all), and Rin my mother's (likewise, lucky for her).

Rin laughed, "Oh dear, and you signed that contract too. Maybe I can gather some further information. Possibly find some loopholes?" she proposed.

"Yes, good idea," I agreed, "use those super spy skills or whatever, _but get me out of here_!" I snatched her hands pleadingly, puppy eyes gleaming, desperation in my voice.

Rin laughed as she stood and walked to Haruhi's table and sat down with a smile. I sighed as she engaged in pleasant conversation. So far, I had survived only a day of this, and I was already exhausted of it. I sighed again and sat up.

"Slacking on duty, Harding-san?"

I fell out of the chair in shock with a yelp. Of course I cracked my head on the couch leg, which left me dazed for a few seconds. I finally managed to pull myself up, rubbing my head, doing some quick thinking.

"No, senpai. I simply had a pause in service. Besides," I glared at Kyoya, "I have a feeling I'm not being paid."

"No," he acknowledged, glancing at his ledger, "But you are using host club property, and that would fine any pay that may or may not have been in your future."

"What?!" I stared. _Damn, I can't think of anything,_ I thought, scrambling for a response and just thought of one in time, "Technically I'm not under any orders at the moment," I pointed out, "Unless you have anything." Too late the words left my traitorous mouth. Too late to snatch them from the air. Too late to install that mouth filter I've been meaning to get.

"Hm, now that you mention it…" he said thoughtfully. _Oh crap_. "No. I don't have anything in mind." I let out a _really_ big exhale.

"However, I'm sure we can find something for you to do." Only to suck all the air back in.

_Crap, crap, crap._

"We're a bit shorthanded at the moment," he smiled, "so could you keep the other guests busy while we make time to wait on them?"

"Are you asking me or telling me?" I scowled. He looked at me straight in the eye, "Don't ask questions you already know the answer to."

That. That threat right there. It froze me where I stood. If it wasn't apparent until that point, it was then. I was _really_ attracted to these kinds of things, thus attracted to this guy.

"They're waiting over there," he nodded to where several girls were looking around curiously, like he hadn't just struck what seemed to be fear into a poor boy, "Introduce them to the club."

I was finally able to connect brain to my face and rolled my eyes, walking, nonetheless, where he had gestured. Like a freaking robot at his command. Crap it.

"Hello," I said dryly to the girls, "I do hope you did not find this place in search of the restroom, as I can assure you that we have no toi–"

Something small and hard bounced off the back of my head and I whipped around, to see Hikaru hiding his next peppermint innocently. I glowered at the back of his head.

"Fine. We have no _facilities_. However," I turned back to the girls, "I must inquire if you actually went in search of this-"

Another peppermint, but different direction. Apparently the club was determined to keep me on track.

"-place. Never mind. Welcome to the Host Club. Wonder of your fantasies, and the epitome of your dreams; if you simply step inside, I'm sure you'll see what I mean."

My sarcasm either went unnoticed or was simply ignored.

"Oooh! A poem!" one giggled.

_Dear gods, they're mad_, I thought pokerfaced, with a tinge of disgust.

I tried to suppress the urge to roll my eyes. I'm not sure I succeeded, because I instantly added, "Yes, a poem it seems I've made, but I don't think you understood what I said. Oh well, I guess, I might as well, the different types, I guess I'll tell."

I recited it with perfect deadpan. The girls squealed at this apparently new form of introduction.

Rin told me later all the hosts and patrons actually turned to watch me at this point, which I certainly knew nothing about; I was so far into my element I didn't even notice the lack of projectile-peppermints I most certainly deserved to be bombarded with.

"First we have Haruhi, the natural so blunt and so sweet, next we have the adorable Hunny, the cutest Lolita you'll ever meet. Hikaru, Kaoru, the homo little demons, clever and oh so gay, Kyoya, the cool type, cunning and full of brains," I probably spat that line, possibly with a lot of sarcastic sweetness, "Next is Tamaki, the most favored of them all, the one for whom I'm sure you'll all fall, and finally Mori, the quiet, wild type, and thus ends this pathetic type tripe. To put it in simple terms, these are what I mean, natural, cute, wild, demon, cool and prince, pick according to your need."

I finished indifferently, gesturing (false) dramatically behind me where the hosts were _supposed_ to be entertaining guests, apparently they were all staring. The girls were too busy clapping happily to notice my tattered-veil insults. Or the sarcasm from my words pooling at my feet. They giggled past me to the table of their choice, and I released a 'tsk', rolling my eyes. I turned around, expecting to be ignored, only to come face-to-ledger with the cool type himself.

"You're quite the poet," he commented, in a way that made it clear _he_ didn't miss a single undertone. I was so surprised, I had no answer. So much for the unstoppable mouth.

"Just don't do it again," he said, turning slowly to attend to the guests, "You'll be _fined_ if you scare away any customers."

It wasn't a threat. He was _making fun_ of me. I clenched my fist, not sure if I was angry, embarrassed, or falling deeper into that attraction hole, then the implication of his words sunk in.

"Fined?!" I said disbelievingly.

He turned back and bent to bring his eyes level to mine, "So you won't do it again?"

_Crap, crap, crap._

"…No," I finally managed to squeeze out and took a step back to grab my nerves back in line, "I'll just make sure you don't hear."

He chuckled and walked back to his laptop. I glared at his back and huffily walked off to see if I could find a way to escape. I had opened one of the doors when Kaoru shouted, "Peppermint! Come here!"

I stalked over, fully prepared for a brutal massacre.

"Refill our cups, Peppermint," Kaoru ordered. Maybe it was only in my mind that I held a butter knife above my head like a B-movie serial killer.

"What are you, crippled?" I glared daggers at them both.

"No, it's just if Kaoru tried," Hikaru took his brother's hand dramatically. Or should I say sickeningly, "he might hurt himself!" The fangirls squealed and I felt a bit nauseous.

"Hikaru!"

"Okay, fine!" I faked dry-heaved, stopping them before it got worse, "I get it! Cut the act."

I poured their tea, utterly disgusted. As a twin myself, their performance was just repulsive. They probably knew this already though. That's why they had done it.

After I survived that encounter, I tried to escape once again, but Tamaki said, "No, no, Puppy! Mom!" he traipsed over to Kyoya.

"Our new pet isn't properly trained! Please house-break him for us. He only listens to you!"

"Certainly," Kyoya said. I didn't realize at the time, but this is what gave him a reason to ruin my life from hence forward. My mind was more focused on the whole 'Mom' thing. Too bad he didn't mind it. I very nearly had counter-blackmail.

**

* * *

**

**Author's Notes:** Yea, I finally got it up! So whatcha think? Don't be misled into thinking this is another fanfic where they fall in love in an unrealistic amount of time, I assure you, Taylor only feels mild attraction, she doesn't even _like_ Kyoya. (Actually she hates him) And Kyoya is definitely not gonna be falling in love any time soon.

In case you were wondering why I don't show Taylor's stories with Rin, it's because she basically tells the same story you read, with more hand gestures and what not. And just so you know, the club thinks she's a girl not solely by her appearance, but how she reacts. Notice how she instantly gets angry and rebels at some of the spoken implications. Later, you'll find she's very violent, but whatever.

Any questions, go ahead and ask and don't forget to review while you're at it!


	2. Blackmail

**Disclaimer: **If I owned Host Club, it would come out weekly, not monthly. (The suspense!)

* * *

"…and he chuckled!" I moaned to Rin, outside after club, telling my story, "the damn bastard chuckled! Not enough that I'm frozen solid, but he gives me that infuriating smirk of his! Argh! If I was really a guy, it would have gone the same; I'd be intimidated out of my mind!"

"Oh dear," Rin said in an ever-so slight bit of concerned voice, "you have it bad, don't you? That thing for guys like him."

She carefully drew the schematics for some device as I sighed and dropped next to her on the wrought-iron bench. For all her creepy spy skills, she wasn't doing a very good job of sketching (in fact, it was rather horrendous). I guess we all have our weaknesses.

"Yes," I admitted painfully, "I do have it bad. If I fall in love, I'll have to kill myself," I mimed a dagger to the heart, then a Shakespearean death complete with head-lolling and limb-flailing.

"Think about what would happen if they found out I was a girl! And Kyoya-teme…he'd have me right in his palm. It doesn't take a genius to figure out how incredibly hot he is." I groaned. After a moment's pause, in which Rin shuffled through her bag for an eraser, I said, "Though, for all my…attraction," I spat the word, "he's still a dirty bastard. No," I said firmly, "I think I have more time. I won't be found out yet."

"Positive thinking," Rin said lightly, standing, "I await your next tale eagerly." Even she smiled at the thought of her being eager. She went off, effectively abandoning me for the next occurrence.

"I will not fall in love with Kyoya Ootori," I said aloud decisively to myself.

"You won't, will you?"

"Ah!" I jumped to my feet, or was it jumped ten feet, at the sound of a voice _right in my ear_. (Probably both)

_Crap, crap, crap,_ I thought as I spun around, my judgment and coherence far away.

"K-K-Kyoya-senpai, I-"

-I took quite a few steps back, actually. It was like he never lost that smirking look on his face.

"Now why would you have reason to fall in love with me?" he inquired, walking around the bench to stand in front of me. Á la Hitachiin.

I swallowed hard, "Ah you," I tried (emphasis on tried) to think quickly, scrambling for an answer, "you must have heard me wrong. I said-"

"Considering your talent, this shall be interesting," he said, smirking.

_Crap, crap, crap!_

"What do you think, ah, what did you hear to, ah-"

"All of it," he said conversationally, lounging back against the column, but fixing me with those damn amused eyes, "Most interestingly the fact you're a _girl_."

_CRAP, CRAP, CRAP!!_

"Oh," Kyoya added, "and that you hold some kind of," he waved his hand vaguely, but cracking a grin. Of the manipulative variety, "attraction to me. Something to do with 'snarky bastard', I recall?"

_Bastard! Crap! He's so…argh!_

I clenched my fists to try to prevent breaking out in a blush, "Evil magistrate."

He raised his eyebrows and continued, "Apparently, that's what you love about me. I overheard most of your conversations, you know," he said lightly, "You really have quite a gift for story-telling, don't you? More than you let on."

"You eavesdropper!" I desperately tried to change the topic as I felt a blush coming on, "There's no way I could possibly even _tread upon_ the notion of tolerance, much less _like_ of such an egotistical, filthy rich _bastard_ like you!"

I was probably blushing by now anyways. I was soon too distracted to notice.

"Are you entirely sure?" he inquired, taking a step towards me, "You do lose your composure remarkably consistently when I address you." He took another step and seemed to tower before me. I dutifully backed up significantly.

"Hmph," he smirked, point made, "and as for that talent…" he looked astutely at me, "is that what you expressed concern over your first day?"

I scowled, but opted for damage control, keeping my mouth firmly closed. Mental duct tape, glue, all the works.

"Interesting," he said like I had confirmed it, and looked thoughtful for a moment, "and the way you entertained the guests as well…" he examined me as though sizing up my potential and then a very foreboding smile crossed his lips, "I'll think on this new information, host club's dog," he put emphasis on the last three words, using them like the very daggers I had threatened to use on myself not so long ago.

_Crap, crap, crap._

He began to walk off with a grin, but only after a few steps did a very disturbing thought penetrated the array of swear words crowding my skull.

"Ootori-senpai," I said, refusing to call him by his first name any more. That would intimate something akin to respect, or gods forbid, _like_. Kyoya paused, then turned without making a move towards me.

"Yes?"

"You, you won't," I definitely felt my entire face on fire with probably a concerning shade of red, "You won't tell anyone…about my…that thing, will you?"

He didn't respond at first, the bastard basking in my turmoil likely. If he told, those hosts will tauntingly try to seduce me or something worse, considering the twins. Once more, it wouldn't be long before a student officer not from D class (who would let me off) would force me into one of those disgusting yellow strait jackets.

"I will consider it," he said after the most miserable moment of my life, "It really depends on the incentive."

_Incentive? Oh sh-_

"Incentive to tell or incentive to hide," he explained in what would have been a sing-song voice coming from any other person, "quite simply, if _you_ decide to make me."

"You dirty-"

"Ah dear; that sounds like a threat."

I grit my teeth, clenched my fists, and spat out, "Of course not, Ootori-_sama_."

"I thought not," he said coolly and turned to continue walking away.

"Ootori-teme, more like," I muttered, but I think he heard me, because _something_ had to make him cackle like the devil taking souls. Sounds just like him, actually.

* * *

"Forget what I said!" I told Rin, "I can't understand how I could have possibly found anything but ill in that-"

"And so flows forth various curses," she supplied, "but you're forgetting something, Taylor; _he's a host,_" she gave me a significant look, "His profession is to_ flirt_. He knows how to make you like him, or at least do what he wants, and he has blackmail hanging over your head."

And thus, my good ship _Selective Reasoning_ sank into the deep blue.

"I know," I moaned, suddenly very, very depressed, "I'm more royally screwed than the king's door frames!"

"Hi, Ty-Ty!" Hunny suddenly jumped in front of me, seizing me and dragging me to who knows where.

"Hel…lo?"

"Kyo-kun wants to see you, did you break anything?" he said brightly, toting me to the door.

"No, I don't think so-wait, Kyoya-?!" I said, my brain suddenly disembarking from its plane.

"Oh, good, you got him."

I really could have cried right there. Honestly.

Kyoya smiled charmingly, "I need to discuss something with you outside."

Hunny nodded as though he had just confirmed something, "Ty-Ty should really be careful with the valuables. They break easy."

I heard Haruhi mutter, "No kidding," before I was left with no choice but to follow the bane of my existence into the deserted hall.

"So," Kyoya said cheerfully without preamble, "I've decided." And I decided that-

He probably anticipated the flow of choice phrases about to come out of my mouth because he continued, "You are to entertain the guests who are waiting to be hosted. You seem to like to make people laugh judging by your conversations with Westing-san."

"Like hell!" I began, but he cut in.

"And unless you want something to leak out, you will do it without protest."

I growled, "And how are you going to trust me enough not to slander the club, but primarily _you_?"

_Oh damnit, he's smiling again._

"That's why, per suggestion of Hunny, you will have to wear this," he tossed me some kind of cloth object that turned out to be-

"No. Way. In. Hell."

"Correct," he said, not even trying to suppress a smile at the bloody freaking jester hat he had given me, "I highly doubt anyone will take you very seriously in that."

"I highly doubt-" But Kyoya caught my fist before I could crush it through his face.

He probably was well aware this counted as 'touching'.

"Desist," he said like ordering a dog, and sure enough, "puppy."

I jerked my hand back, "Ootori-danna," I shot back, "Master of the bastard."

"Call our relationship whatever you want," oh, he knew for sure how he was phrasing this sentence, "but it still comes down to _you_ doing what _I_," he nodded to the hat, "want."

I gave him the most furious, apathetic glare in the history of the world.

He took it with a smile and a pointed thrusting of the damn hat on my head.

Which also counts as touching.

* * *

"Welcome to our fair abode, where I'm sure you'll be happy to know, that serves to your needs, but certainly isn't much helping me-"

Hikaru was having too much fun in the task of keeping me in line.

"-so step within and you shall see," I amended, then knowing the true purpose of being rich and having high-standing:

Endless. Bloody. Peppermints.

"There are six types from which to choose, which will be explained by your resident fool. With Kyoya we will start, who you'll like if you go for bas-"

Hunny's the only one to transfer peppermints from his mouth to stick to my head without interface. I still hadn't forgiven him for the hat.

"-for _Danna_ will surely steal your heart-"

I like Haruhi. He's always slow on the throwing. Kyoya, the overseer in question, however, had an annoying clairvoyance for knowing, in this case, my next rhyme was 'fart'. Except he throws pens, which hurt _way_ more.

I decided that whoever was next in line (with my luck, Kaoru) already had peppermint at the ready (and if Kaoru, in the slingshot, poised to fire), so I skipped Kyoya all together and described everyone else. However I finished with, "So go and enjoy our refreshments, and while you're at it, here's a mint," then handed the accumulation at my feet out just so the snipers would know I was willing to reveal the secret behind the Suddenly Indecisive Jester Of The Host Club. Danna gave me a look that said that I was _not_ willing.

When the giggling she-numbskulls departed my station at the entrance to spread out to others', I promptly laid out on a nearby chair until I was called upon again. I even popped a mint into my mouth and tried to unstuck Hunny's from my hat. The latter yielded little results.

I will probably smell of peppermints for the rest of my life. I just have that kind of luck. To amuse myself until new customers arrived, I sketched doodles on my hand with Kyoya's oh-so-expensive pen, making sure to lick the tip to 'make the ink flow'. It tasted like crap, but was worth the look on Haruhi's face to see me desecrating something so valuable. Scholarship students must all be like that.

I had successfully drawn waves and spirals all up both arms and had it poised over my cheek when it finally got to Kyoya.

He snatched it up, and ordered, "Roll down your sleeves. As non-presentable as you are, at least don't use a fountain pen to draw stars on your body."

"Annoyed, Teme?"

_Oh crap, I made him smirk._

"Not at all. I merely thought you wanted me to keep the fact you are avoiding our dear student officers. They would be interested in why you aren't wearing a uniform."

I've never been good at shutting up at good points.

"So?" I snorted, "Who cares if I were stuffed into a suit," actually that would be unspeakable, "Not like they're _shackling_ me." Yeah, it would be _just_ like shackling me.

He looked at me with a calculating look, "You're acting more bold, so you must believe you're at an advantage. What is it?"

Ah, you see that? Where he just pins down instantly what's changed? Yeah, that's how I become aware that he's leaning _right over me_ and his face is _this close_.

Which makes my face _ambulance light red._

"That I absolutely hate you, therefore I'm not really falling in love with you." I was so concerned with keeping a steady tone and defiant front, I really had no idea how idiotic my words made me.

Then he smiled. So then I realized it. Oh, how I realized it.

"Falling in love would be a liability for you, wouldn't it," not a question, "It would hinder any hope of planning a loophole, right," also not a question, "You couldn't call me 'Danna', no?"

He shouldn't ask questions not intended for answers. Especially with such a sarcasm-oozing voice.

"Shut up," I said in blinding intellect. He just chuckled and left, knowing he won this battle.

And at this rate, the war.

* * *

"Argh! How am I suppose to rip him shreds if I know I'll weld his steel heart back together?!" I roared in agitation, not even realizing I still had my hat on, "If I fall in love, he'll twist me around his finger, if I don't, he'll flirt until it's just a matter of time!" Okay, so the definition of effective flirting for me was different from the normal definition, but that was beside the point.

"Quite a position," Rin commented calmly, touching a solder to the back of some kind of screen, "but maybe if you found something to think about when in a…difficult spot. Such as what's something wrong with him and focus on it." Then, with complete deadpan, she added, "Do try to avoid body parts. Gods know where that'll lead."

I punched her in the arm, "Shut up." But I was thankful she had pointed out anyways. I wouldn't have wanted to stumble upon it on my own.

Then again, all this talk did make me think about it. Unfortunately, I couldn't think of that magic fault.

"Quick, quick, make some suggestions!"

"Is he bad at a subject in class?" she asked, smiling slightly.

"Practically top in school," I moaned.

"Does he eat weird things?"

"No."

"Is he a morning person?"

"Opposite," I sighed, "He's as bad as me."

"That's biologically impossible," Rin said evenly, without blinking an eye.

"That's what I said. No one believed me."

"Bad at sports?"

"How's that a fault?"

"Good at sports?"

"Very funny," I glared at her innocent tone.

"You're right," Rin set down her device to look at me, "He's perfect for you. You must get married sometime."

"Not helping!"

Rin laughed, "Very well, I have no idea what to tell you. Just try to avoid him. Eat lunch outside, stay after school to get help in class, I'll even let you hide out in here while I set up the club. Though," she added without change in tone, "I will have potential club inductees coming through, so if you must visit, be prepared."

I should have heeded her warning, but I just thanked her happily and zoomed off, hoping to make it to The Mess Hall by at least an hour before closing.

I managed to run halfway down the street only to find that I forgotten they closed early today, so I was going the wrong way. At this point, I should have remembered the fact there are no such things as shortcuts and should have left that back road alone.

Emphasis on _should have_.

I achieved getting dead lost in what could only be the other side of town. Keeping calm and composed (yeah right) as pedestrians stared at the boy with a jester hat and writing on his arms, I spun around on the spot in uncountable circles trying to find my bearings. It wasn't a seedy section of town considering where I _could_ have ended up. In fact, it was near some higher-end shopping areas and I recognized some names as some kids from Ouran, but none of them in my class, mostly Bs. A select few A-class stores were scattered throughout, so I knew I was on the border of the designers district. I realized where I was in time for a black limousine to pull up beside me.

And in true karmic payback for my lucky landing in the Gold District, the window rolls down to reveal, who else, Kyoya.

**

* * *

**

**Author's Notes: **Well, I couldn't take the fact I have about five chapter's worth of material in the computer, and at least two on paper. I wanted to space it out, but I have collapsed under pressure! So here you are, chapter two!

There are a lot of references (okay, one in my general page view, I'm too lazy to look more) to later stuff, so they will be explained! Just not yet.


	3. House Visit

**Disclaimer:** If I owned Host club, heh heh, well…

* * *

I guess that's just how my luck runs. For every north, there's a south, for every good, there's a bad, for every cross-town rescue, there's a Kyoya.

"You seem lost," he said, thoroughly amused, "Is there a reason you are on the other side of town than your estate? And I thought you didn't like that hat?"

I grabbed the offending hat from my head, stifling the urge to throw it on the ground and pound it into the cement. Not helping the situation. "I got lost. I was on my way somewhere and-"

"You took a shortcut," Kyoya finished, even more amused now, "And I doubt you are the kind of girl to enjoy shopping, so you obviously don't know your way around here."

I scowled at him and spat, "Yes."

"I see. How do you plan to get back? Buses don't pick up here."

"I know that," I snapped, annoyed at him reminding me I had no way to get ten kilometers across town in two hours. My only choice, which of course, he _knew_, was to ask him for a ride.

Which of course, I _knew_, would _not_ be free.

"If there are no buses or transits," I said, okay, growled, glaring included, "could you take me?"

Another one of those damn, smirking pauses, then, "Possibly. It won't be free, of course."

Of course.

"How long do you have to get there?"

I should have answered 'now' or 'five minutes', anything but, "Two hours."

A slow smirk spread across his face, "If you're not expected anytime soon, why are you asking now?"

"Because you con-artist," I snarled, wanting so badly to grab his collar and rattle him until his brains stained the upholstery, "I can't bloody well walk ten kilometers in that amount of time and as much as I pray it's not true, _you_ are probably the only person I know who will find me here."

"True," he looked towards the front of the car and for a moment I thought he would say to leave me here, "Very well," he turned back to me.

Guess dreams can't come true.

"On one condition," he added.

"No, really, I would have never guessed," I spat, "Now let me in."

He just raised his eyebrows and nodded to the driver, who unlocked the door, but I opened it before he could come out to do it for me.

I sat huffily across from him, willing this moment to evaporate and just land me outside my door. Not happening, because Kyoya said, "I'm surprised; you didn't even ask what the condition was. Do you usually get in cars with people you don't trust even with the knowledge you won't get off free?" Gee, can you phrase it more suspiciously.

"Just shut up and tell me what to do," thinking about flicking off my ride home, also on the 'not helping' list, "It can't be demeaning enough to make me never show my face again, or you would lose your favorite puppet. What a lost it would be."

"Indeed. But are you sure you want to agree without hearing the condition? Rather risky." Normal people would have paused to allow me to reconsider. Normal, nice, kind, _so totally not Danna-teme_ people.

"But if that's how you conduct business," he continued without pause, "I must respect it."

It was amazing how _naturally_ he could act in the way that totally made me want to wring him a new one.

"Since you have at least an hour and forty-five minutes to spare," he smirked, "You can do me a few favors. Such as fetching more peppermints."

I tried to ignore the reference and said, "Don't you usually have people to do this?"

"It's more entertaining watching you do it."

I glared, "And what use will peppermints be to you? _You_ throw pens. Really painful ones too." I didn't try to restrain the urge to rub the spot where that pen had nailed me _point down_ on my back.

"I can buy more pens, but _you're_ paying for the peppermints."

"No way! That's like a death row inmate buying bullets! Besides-" I stopped before I admitted that for all my inheritance, I had no money. At all. I was flat broke. I spent all my monthly allotment plus the money Rin gave me on deodorizing the smell of peppermints from my hoodie, only for it to smell like them again the next day.

"Besides what?" he inquired. I would not answer that question. Under any conditions.

"If there is nothing more than circumstantial objection-" Okay, except the threat of being left on the side of the road.

"Fine!" I admitted, turning red, "I…don't really have, ah, no money really, well, on me. At the moment. Right now."

"No money," for some reason this made him laugh, "so that's why you haven't tried to bribe me yet." Oh, that reason.

"It's not like you would have ever accepted it," I flustered, trying to redeem myself, "Money's not a problem for _you_."

"So you're not just broke now?" Kyoya shot down accurately, "It's a long term thing?"

"Damnit, shut up," I muttered, "the last thing I need is the rich bastard reminding me I have no money and no hope. Next thing you'll be finding more ways to put me in debt."

I instantly regretted mentioning it, but he didn't jump on the idea, only said, "It's already been done."

Damn cryptic.

"So what now, Danna-teme?" I asked, "That pay-for-groceries idea won't work. And I doubt you'll just drive me home without extracting payment." Yes, _extracting_. Is there any less to be expected of him?

"Fair point. Maybe I should just not drive you to your estate. Just leave you on the side of the road right here?"

"Fine, what else you got?" Like I had any reason to believe I was any less far from my house than I was when this stranger waved candy under my nose. Granted; provisional, likely rotted, probably mint-flavored candy, but it was still my ticket home.

"Well," Kyoya said thoughtfully, "I presume you wish to arrive home in two hours for the arrival of your father? To give the appearance you came from school immediately when he worked late. I assume you would be put on restriction otherwise."

I stared. Was it really that obvious? "What of it?" I asked suspiciously. I suppressed the absurd urge to check my face for my motives being written across my mug.

"I would like to see where you live; I have assessed and visited every other residence involved in the host club, for precautionary reasons of course."

I gaped, "Why the heck would you want to see my house? And what precautionary reasons? What, do think my father runs kind of terrorist…news…letter…" I trailed off at the suddenly appraising and slightly interested look on Kyoya's face, "You have _got_ to be kidding me."

Apparently he was serious. "Actually," he cocked his head, but not cutely nor innocently in the least, "I was thinking there was a higher possibility of _you_ circulating unauthorized material. Considering the circumstances."

"What circumstances?!" I burst, self-control lost at the implication that I would ever use my skills for something less than entertainment, much worse the suggestion of subversion.

If I had been thinking logically, I would have realized I had exposed the weakness of a person raised by a reporter and molded into a storyteller. Challenge to my pride of my talent's legitimacy and respectable use nonplussed me more than any threat to reveal my gender could.

There was no question why.

"You have a tendency to be outspoken," he replied, avoiding what was we both know was the _real_ reason, "but I'm sure you don't have any suspicious material lying wantonly about. You probably couldn't even pull off an actual publication anyways. Your home probably doesn't have enough room to-"

"That's it, you're on." I said, annoyed, "If you see what my house looks like, you can't make any snide comments anyways."

This was rather ill-thought out logic. In fact, I don't think it was thought out at all. Or logic, for that matter.

He had expected me to rise to the challenge, because we only turned the corner when we reached the Harding Estate. He knew I would accept all along, the annoying bastard.

"Very impressive," he said mockingly, "Your residence is quite imposing."

No, as a matter of fact, Taylor and Taylor Harding were not poor. We also did not waste money on over-opulence. Just way too many books.

"Shut up," I said, reason returning with a sting. This was a bad idea, but he had already wormed his way to my door before I could have second thoughts.

"So do you have a bell-pull?" he mocked, "Or do you have a key?" I glared as I opened the flap on the keypad panel.

I probably didn't mention the fact that with, as Danna so delicately mentioned, such a small manor, came the lack of need for servants. Or butlers. Chauffeurs. Bodyguards. Chefs. Maids that came more than once a month. And God knows we needed one, even a librarian.

Of course, it would hard to have any of the above with all the-

"Books," Kyoya stated bluntly, "May I ask why there are books occupying every seemly once useable space?"

I glanced at the piles of books stacked feet high, in haphazard to neat to ruler perfect piles on the floor, on the shelves, up the stairs, beside the toilet, framing the light switches, and in such a pattern to allow seemingly only a thin walkway between them; I had honestly forgotten the effect it had on people. The back of the house, which was really used as the front, was nothing like this.

"This is my half," I said, really enjoying that off-guard look Kyoya had, "It's normal in the back, where my father mainly uses, but I never have a problem with them."

I was unconsciously let my guard slip, at ease in my own environment that _he_ didn't understand.

"Interesting," he walked forward and picked up the top book from the five stacked at the end of the stair banister, "I haven't ever seen or heard of these books before."

"That's because they're not real," I said easily, "not actually published. My family is big on written and spoken amusement though."

"All of these books are created by you?" he said incredulously, flipping through the thick book. By now, my 'Stop feeding him information, you delusional barking idiot' alarms should have been going off, but there must have been a system malfunction.

"My mother and I. And only the ones on the staircase," which was, admittedly, a lot, "Father and Rin recorded practically everything we say, the scary techies. Wired us up with…"

_Why is he smiling?_ I scrolled through my last words in my head and decided other than a dire need to shut my mouth, nothing should have made him smile so deviously.

"I'm borrowing these," he said softly, like stating a fact.

"Wait, why would you…?" _Which one did he find?_

"Blackmail," he said simply, slipping the volume he held into his school case before I could take a look.

And my mind just jolted back on, only to go blank like a computer flashing 'no power' and shutting off. My first thought was to lunge for the book, only to realize I couldn't possibly prevent him from making off with _all_ of them. I tried to opt out.

"I didn't know the great Kyoya Ootori sunk so low as to steal from _un-_hired help," I growled.

He shrugged, "This can't be your entire house surely."

What a subtle change in topic.

"Of course not," I said, annoyed at his tone implying that it _was_.

"What of it, then? I expected a small home, but-"

"Up the stairs," I ordered, "The rest of the ground floor is off limits."

"Off-limits?" he asked, picking his way up the steps, decidedly less nimbly than my weaving between the piles.

"None of your business," I said, knowing I couldn't kick him out. He had people to _make_ me follow orders. However, he didn't have to see everything in my house. I quickly ran ahead to shut the doors he had no right to enter, including my room. I had my hand on the handle and was about to shut it when his hand grabbed my forearm.

"Is this your room?"

His voice, because of his proximity, was centimeters from my ear.

Touching. Again. Damn him.

"Well, is it?" He couldn't have expected an answer because he moved his hand from my arm to the door, pushing it open. That defrosted me.

"Out!" I shouted, pointing at the hall. It was futile to say the least.

"So it is," Kyoya bent to examine the line of photos on a shelf, "Is this a picture of you?"

He picked up the picture that was hidden by some other well-placed frames, at least hidden from someone of my decidedly more diminutive stature.

I instantly jumped to intercept, but his left hand shot out unexpectedly, make me screech to a halt so fast to avoid it, I fell on my ass.

"You look in pain," he commented in an unbefitting tone of delight, still looking at the thing, remarking on both the photograph and my position on the floor, "Then again," he smiled at me, "I never pinned you as a dress wearer."

I ignored the lack of snark and scheming replaced by actual contentment in that sadistic smile and promptly made a grab for the photo. Kyoya held it above my head.

"If you don't want anyone to see it," he taunted, "why keep this?"

"GPS, Rin stuck it on there," I said, concentrating on repossessing the picture, making fruitless jumps to grab it, which he answered by bringing it close to my reach, then pulling it back up as soon as I made a grab, "I can't find the damn thing to take it off, so I hide it."

This time he didn't jerk it up, so I was shocked enough to feel it on my hands that I fumbled it.

Of course, it hit me square in the nose. Where else?

I was assaulted with the sight of my mother and sister holding each arm of my lacy rose-tinted dress-covered arms connected to my twelve year-old self as my father had his arm around my mother's shoulder with a laughing face.

It was the only family picture with me completely in the frame after five years of forcing me in dresses, with one year where I had burned the thing before they could even try, since I was eight.

By the time I had fingered my throbbing nose and replaced the frame, Kyoya had already moved on to where my desk was and was flipping through my sketchbook.

Learning my lesson the first time, I threw a nearby pillow at his head instead of choosing to physically stop him. To my surprise, it hit dead on (well, kinda), knocking the book from his hand. I instantly ran to my desk and picked it up. It was open to my sketches of potential mopeds and potential violent outcomes of said vehicles. The particular one it showed was the recent one involving my shiny (new, damnit!) red one-seated and its subsequent run in with that willow down the drive. Weeping willow indeed.

"Is that an actual incident?" he asked, mildly surprised, "The mangled remains of that cheap contraption seem so accurate for such a poorly made mode of transportation."

Shut up, rich boy.

"That dent in the willow had to come from somewhere," I snapped, "Though you may have missed it, damn tree's made of steel."

And thus the Great Kyoya Ootori looked genuinely _shocked_. You heard me, _shocked_.

"You crashed it? Your file showed no absents due to medical reasons. No _human_ could survive that crash."

I loved that emphasis on 'human', like I was somehow _not_ human, it nearly gave me an excuse to punch him. Nearly.

"Like hell I waited until it took out, or more accurately, the _tree_ took out the _bike_. I jumped off that thing as soon as its gas and steering locked. I still think some poorly-informed mafia tried to off me thinking I was Rin."

If he suspected anything concerning 'mafia', he didn't say, so I hoped he could recognize a joke. On second thought, he did intrude practically under the pretense of well-meaning neighbor, so I think he knew how to make something a joke.

"Hm. And those other drawings? Did you draw them?" his tone gave nothing away, but as I flipped back through the sketchbook, I began realize, and hopelessly wished to deny, what he could be referring to.

Rin had asked me to design several…prototypes for her, claiming her field of talent did not lie in the two-dimensional (yeah, I'll say). I thought it was really because she was lazy like me, even though her drawing skills really did suck. One of the things she told me to create was-

"Surveillance clouds," how he managed to catch the gleam of the light from the window on his glasses, I'll never know, but those steel gray bastards were totally concealed, "An interesting concept, one that was recently submitted to the national espionage for consideration by a long time, but unknown, contributor. The designs were perfectly drawn to reality, yet detailed the incorporating of several cameras and recording devices. An acquaintance of mine works for the design department and lent me his computer."

_She actually used them,_ I stood there stunned. This was news for me.

He tilted his chin up slightly, so the light no longer reflected off his glasses, but I wished it still was. He held such a superior and smug expression on his face as he leaned casually against my bed, sinister smile gleaming; I was for the first time, severely freaked out.

"Ah. Crap."

"Wouldn't it be interesting," he continued slowly, an ominous chuckle in his voice, not even acknowledging my outburst, "if it got around that not only did the government take suggestions from fifteen year old girls, but your _sister_ was illegally participating in government espionage using _your_ schematics. And in addition to that recent incident with your father…"

_He wouldn't really?_ I thought, _I could be arrested, along with Rin!_

No, he could blackmail me all he wanted, but Rin was off limits.

"Don't tell anyone," I said, more desperately than I wished to sound.

"I can't guarantee that," he said unsurprisingly, "Once again, it's up to you. I won't tell of your sister's involvement if you'd like," I sighed internally, relieved, "but in exchange, _your_ part will have include the idea behind it as well."

I clenched my fists, really mad now. Before, it was simply a matter of social homicide or extreme embarrassment. Now, he was threatening to have me arrested on a federal crime, something that went beyond sordid school gossip.

It was then my odd attraction for deviousness and snark started to plunge; I guess prolonged association can do that. More and more I was beginning to feel less appeal and more anger at Kyoya's comments, and it was about to get worse.

"Blackmail," I realized aloud, "really is black. Black as the feeling of hopelessness, black as the midnight new moon, black as the hole in your chest where a heart would rest, black as the eye I want to give you," I recited, scowling, "Dark as the clouds hiding the sun as it slept, dark as rain in June, dark as the soulless eyes of death, and dark as my feelings for you."

"Very nice," he applauded mockingly, "that may help you when you're on trial. Of course, not much will help you if you hire the same lawyer as your father-"

There's a magic line deep inside me, you know. It's rarely crossed, not even in the morning when it edges near the surface. But a line, nonetheless, and he had crossed it. I have been told by Rin, the unfeeling, unmovable Rin, that she never wishes it to be directed towards her. Apparently I "look like death at twilight; cold, foreboding, and terrifying". And I'm supposed to be the poetic one.

"Out," I hissed the word, pointing to the door, "Get out. Go home, little rich boy, and contemplate every possible meaning of the phrase, "The pen is mightier than the sword, while the latter takes your blood, the former takes your soul'."

He shrugged and walked lazily out, and only when I heard the front door shut did I release my stored up anger, hurt, and murderous intent.

"That's bloody _personal_!" I growled, "Bringing up such a thing, did he want to _die_?!"

I slammed my fist on the desk. Federal crime, blackmail, manipulating, all of it flashed before my red-tinted eyes. That damn divorce lawyer, the publicized case, my mother leaving, all rushed before me. I have never cried in my memory, not even when Mom left. I always got angry or got even. This was no exception.

I tore through my papers to find a blank sheet and began to write with vigor.

I wrote about how once upon a time an unlikely princess thought she had found her prince. I wrote how she found out he was really a soulless beast who suck the spirits out of unsuspecting victims. I wrote how she plotted her revenge, recording every detail of her plans diligently then putting each into action. I wrote how she humiliated and disgraced him in court and eventually the evil prince fell to his knees and begged for mercy. I wrote how Princess Taylor flipped the lowly prince the bird and fed Prince Kyoya to the moat monster.

Then I took several deep breaths and went outside to blow off steam.

I'll never know if my father found that list of various forms of social torture titled, 'Ootori Will Fall'. If he ever did, he never said anything. Then again, he was probably too intimidated by my abuse of an unlucky trash can outside to even think about entering my room.

**

* * *

**

**Author's Notes:** You know I can't just keep putting up new chapters this fast forever, you know. I already had a lot written. Just so you know. And Taylor is really scary when she's mad. 0.0 Spooky. I promise to try to write more so I can keep up the day by day updates but no guarantees! (But I'll try my best.)


	4. Bus Ride

**Disclaimer:** If I own Host Club, obviously I wouldn't be stupid enough to leave out an ENTIRE CHAPTER!!

* * *

It began the next day, when I reported for the host club. It was the first time that day I saw Kyoya, who I glared at. He looked about to come over, but new customers arrived and I had to do my job.

At least, that was what I was _supposed_ to do.

"Welcome premier patrons of new, and I your fool will inform you, of a grisly tale indeed, wrought with darkness, evil, and intrigue," I said conspiratorially, "There are six special types, I'll have you know, but what you think, is not so. They are vile and crude beasts indeed-"

Kaoru, who barely threw lighter than Hikaru, hit me with a peppermint, but I continued undeterred, "Lacking in kindness and chivalry-" Haruhi, less belatedly than usual, lobbed one my way, "No love exists in these hearts-" Next was Mori, "Only joy of pain plays its part-" Hikaru, "You'd not like this bunch, you know-" Hunny, "They'll leave you devoid, sick and cold-" Tamaki chunked three at me angrily, aiming at the back of my neck, "Leave this place before it's too late-" At this point, all the host club were pitching peppermints at me in rapid fire, "or you shall share my sad fate-" The barrage suddenly halted when a hand wrapped around my head and clamped my mouth shut.

"You'll have to excuse our fool," came Kyoya's polite voice, "He doesn't know his place. Pay him no mind." I didn't need to look to know he had that formal smile on his face.

"Oh, no," the girls assured quickly, "it's his job to play a fool, right?"

"Yes, but he usually is far less foolish."

The girls giggled at his pun and Kyoya bowed slightly, "If you would excuse me for a moment?"

He dragged me outside the music room, down the hall, and down behind the stairs, only releasing my mouth when we reached his destination.

"What, pray tell, was that?" he asked in such forced sweetness that I heard the anger building. Jackpot. Colors radiate, money spews, bells ring throughout the casino. I had ticked him off.

I sneered, "What, I was only, what did you call it, 'playing the fool'."

"Fool, indeed," he glared. Normally this would stop me, but it was no longer a factor now. Having seen him angry was too oh so funny.

"Foolish," he continued, "to forget so quickly of yesterday afternoon. Your sister was recently promoted to B class, correct?"

I thought for a moment to remember the event. Rin had made so little of it, I had nearly forgotten.

"And is trying to start a club now. One that would be in jeopardy if she was in jail."

So that was what he was getting at.

"You said she was safe," I reminded him, "that you won't rat on her."

"Ah, that's right," he said in mock disappointment as a smile unfurled on his face, "but _you_ are still nearly at that point of discovery, far closer now."

The fact Kyoya had leaned down just enough to put his face in shadow was driven home and my mind flickered for a moment on how he always judged the lighting perfectly. Maybe it was just me.

"Can I ask you something, Taylor-kohai?" this, of course, being the most intimidating time to first use my first name, "Now that you know your sister won't face consequences, is that the reason you are suddenly being so impertinent? Do you think as long as Westing-san doesn't get in trouble you'll be safe, because you think the host club, or possibly I, value you too much to get rid of you?"

That was exactly what I was thinking, the damn bastard.

"You're wrong," he said simply and straightened, "Feel free to try and annoy me again; I'm sure the D class has room enough for you."

He left on that ominous note, walking unhurriedly back to the club, and I gave his back the finger and turned to walk the opposite direction. I took one step and Kyoya called back, "Oh, and there's a student officer coming in that direction. He'll be interested in why you're not wearing a uniform," not even breaking stride. I heard footsteps too then, and I about-faced, followed by speeding right by Kyoya.

No way in hell was I wearing any stupid yellow dress _or_ stupid blue suit.

* * *

I ran all the way to Rin's club room, and continued right on in. Heaving breaths with exhaustion, I finally looked up.

The. Biggest. Goggles. In. The. History. Of. The. World. Right. _There_!

"Holy flying crap!" I jumped back. A short boy wearing said orange goggles flipped down off the cable rope he was hanging on to.

"Not the response usually associated with new acquaintances," said a slow, cultured voice behind me. I spun around and a gangly guy with some kind of scope device before his eyes looked mildly interested at me.

"He ain't the iron-est will, is he?" the boy said.

"Surely not here to join?" a girl with long straight hair in the corner commented calmly.

The boy leaned into my face, his goggled-enlarged eye taking up my entire range of vision, "Why's 'e 'ere?" I backed up instantly, right into the tall guy, who bent down to look at me through the scope thing, "Lost, perhaps?"

"Not likely," the girl approached and scrutinized me, "ran right into the room, not exactly wanderer material."

"Ain't our material neither."

"True."

"What could he want, then?" she asked, coming in closer, effectively boxing me in.

"I'm back," my sister popped into the room right as I shouted:

"RIN, WHAT THE HELL?!"

"Oh dear," she replied as the three crazies backed away as she walked towards me, "I warned you, didn't I?"

"About what?!" I looked at her like she was mad, "You said to 'be prepared', not 'I'm bringing in the psychopaths'!"

"That's not very nice," the girl said.

"Yes, quite uncalled for."

"Nah, 'e's gotta point," the spider-goggle-kid disagreed, "We ain't shootin' out 'pproachable rays, are we?" he stuck out his hand with a grin, "Name's Cable-"

"Caleb," Rin informed me.

I thought Cable was more appropriate.

I shook his hand as Rin introduced Lousia and who she insisted went by 'Henry', but pronounced without the 'h'. French boy, though Tamaki was way worse. I took note that they were all from D, which, while they weren't as freaky as first impressions led me to believe, they certainly didn't make the prospect of being damned there by the devil any better.

"Well, I'll just be running for my life and honor," I said perfectly conversationally as a way of excusing myself.

"Danna?" Rin inquired.

"Yes," I said in thorough depression and stepped tentatively out into the hall. I began walking away.

"I thought your twin was a girl," Lousia commented.

"I was led to the same conclusion."

They are the espionage club; they had _wanted_ me to hear that.

"Details, details," Rin dismissed, "we all have details."

I continued my trek to the outside; idly calling up some ideas I might use to entertain the various patrons of Mess Hall. As usual, I had to dismiss the off-color jokes; it _was_ a restaurant, there _would_ be people eating.

Funny how I was thinking dirty thoughts when I stepped in the mud puddle. I fell forward as my feet sunk into the muck, landing full in the face into the most disgusting piece of soil-induced grime to ever curse the planet of its existence; which could mean but one thing.

It was planted.

"Haha! Oh, well, we were expecting milord, but," Hikaru laughed, both he and Kaoru clutching each other for mutual support against collapsing in laughter.

"We got the chocolate-covered Peppermint instead!" they cried in unison, no longer able to prevent falling to the ground in hysterical mirth.

"What's going on?!" the dulcet tones of Tamaki sprinting full-tilt to see what the twins were laughing so hard about that could _possibly_ not involve himself, "What did you two- ah Puppy," he said as he skidded to a halt.

"Harding…san?" Haruhi looked carefully at where a pile of formerly primarily red and white _me_ was now a vibrant shade of _crap_.

"Damnit, shove off!" I shouted, surging to my feet. All four took a step back to avoid getting mud on themselves, though Haruhi had been in the process of offering a hand when I stood.

I angrily stomped away, intent on making it to the house and fishing out all the quarters I could from the couch to use at the laundromat down the street. The maid had left a note one time already after I had gotten mud on my jeans that dry cleaning chemicals, or any other manner of cleaning for that matter save the laundromat's, didn't have the power to undo the amount of damage I was capable of in less than fifteen cycles.

This would probably take a hundred.

I had slicked off most of the excess mess, but I knew I would have to give the old hoodie a wash. If anyone asked, it wouldn't be the first time. But only if anyone asked.

I had to put my shorts and hoodie in separate machines to get them clean, and sat down on the cold tile floor in the first tolerably smelling t-shirt and shorts I could throw on and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

I had gone through two corn dogs and some kind of off-brand carbonated beverage when my shorts came out sparkling (and with some kind of gods-awful floral scent that must have come from that detergent I really should have spent more time reading the label on), but it was another ten minutes and one barfing up from watching those damn clothes turn in the washer later before my hoodie came out dirt-free. But that's not all it came out as.

"Ah, hell no!" I moaned and two college guys gave me sympathetic looks as I slumped against the opposite washers, holding up my, Very. Pink. Hoodie.

See why I don't wash it?

"I have to go to that publishing crap thing too," I remembered out loud why I was so anxious to get my clothes washed, banging the back of my head against the plastic door. Sighing, I took several deep breaths and stood, slowly progressing out the door to my doom. I could hear the funeral march already. The undertaker saying, "Taylor may not have been the most perfect child, and she had a tendency to shout profanities to the sky, but she-"

"Hey, kid!" one of the sympathetic college guys called. I turned around. He held up a wrinkled item of clothing in one hand in the air, "Saw what happened with the hooded; think this might fit you?" He held up the other end with his other hand and, thank you gods, it was a navy blue hoodie.

"Yes!" I nearly tackled him for the thing, "Thank you!"

He grinned, "No prob," he said as I pulled the blessed-above-all-outer-attire over my head, "Saw the thing layin' in the forgotten clothes hamper and we," he gestured to his buddy who nodded his head with an easy smile, "know what it's like to mix whites with red."

"Or blue, or black, or purple, or any color for that matter," the other guy added with a grin.

"Thank you so much!" I was nearly crying with joy. They laughed, "Any time."

I left with a grin on my face and new hope for humanity, the latter which had been tainted from over-exposure to the host club and the Kyoya.

_Ootori_, I froze mid-step, _that's right, I never got my book back._

He probably would forget he took it. After all, he had better dirt than my stories on me now. I continued walking, less happy, but still smiling. I wouldn't let thoughts of that dirty con artist dampen my mood.

Dirt, dirt, dirt. It seems to be following me everywhere. I sense a theme. At least I _should_ have.

And sure enough, as soon as I arrived (fine, burst into the doors right as they closed to accommodate privacy as the event began, panting and clutching a nearby coat rack for support), I wished there had been more dirt on that hoodie, then maybe I would have been too late. For there, talking to the heads of companies, was none other than the Shadow King himself.

Kyoya 'The Bastard' Ootori.

I considered my situation.

I was in an unrecognizable hoodie. Pro.

I was in a recognizable hoodie-donned state. Con.

I had to be the shortest one here, so I was hard to find. Pro.

I was the shortest one here, so I stuck out. Con.

If I pulled up my hood, my face was hidden. Pro.

If I pulled up my hood, security would be on my ass yelling some shade of 'Code Red' and tackle me on the ground before I could even breathe my last. Con.

If I'm dead, I won't have to face Kyoya. Pro.

I lifted my hands to pull the hood over my head when something caught my attention about Danna-teme, and that was he wasn't.

That was not Kyoya Ootori's glasses that were oh so easy to look intimidating over. These were larger, more square.

Related, not sadist. I was in the clear. Or so I thought. Turns out security does more than not let assassins in: they don't let prisoners out. So I resorted to standing next to the body guards lined up on the south wall solemnly, with something of a scowl. People may wonder what a body guard was doing so small, but it was likely they'd think whatever it was, I was not something to be messed with. My fellow surly men seemed to travel the same line of thought, because I heard one say, "Damn foreign recruits, getting smaller everyday."

I was pondering what relation that doppelganger could be to Kyoya, and why the other bodyguards seemed to think I was foreign, when my father found me and sighed at my convincing impression.

"Let's go, Taylor. I think you sufficiently made the top publishers in the world doubt the impotency of their youth's strength."

"Good," I huffed, following him out, "they obviously haven't been paying attention."

I bowed curtly to the other men, "Thank you, boys, you made my charade all the more convincing," I said in false gruffness. As I had hoped, I raised a chuckle out of a few of them. And they say body guards can't laugh.

* * *

I found out later why Kyoya in possession of my stories was such a bad, bad thing. Saturday, after skiving off club on Friday, was looking up. I had spent a few hours getting to know the espionage club, and they weren't _that_ bad. I (successfully) navigated my way to Mess Hall and was clocking off for my extra cash that I was paid whenever I was in need and told stories for more than an hour. Happily skipping out, drunk on giddiness, I embarked on a bus and sat down in the back, resting my forehead against the cool glass. It felt nice, but my happiness didn't last.

Kyoya never told me why he happened to, on a whim I'm sure, board the very public transportation I was using solely to avoid him, but I didn't buy the 'Tamaki ordered us to try experiences of all kinds and made us use commoner transportation' bit he supplied.

Whatever the reason, he walked right down that aisle and sat next to me, smirking.

There went my happy mood, my optimism, my emotion. I was getting tired of running from him. All my anger seemed to freeze over, spent. I don't know what brought it on. I've never felt (and haven't since) so uncaring about what was going to happen in my life. I blame that chicken at the Mess Hall. It seemed a bit off.

"I enjoyed an interesting read today," Kyoya remarked, holding up the book of poems and tales he had filched from my house. I snatched it, dreading the worst.

And worst it was. The _Love of the Heartless_ to be exact, one of the holiday themed challenges my mother, in this case me, had taken up. The nauseatingly pink book was actually a collection of anti-love poems and legends of the vengeful heartbroken, angry lovers, unwilling brides and grooms, jealous siblings, and-

"Regicide, both by princes, princesses, and _fools_," he added, obviously hearing my tense mutter of the table of contents, "The_ Watchful Prey_ story was the most interesting by far. It's almost nearly uplifting until the ending."

"That's how most stories end;" I said tersely, gripping the seat in front of me, then letting it go, "without a happy ending. No prince to save the day, no damsel to happily marry the hero," I stared emotionlessly through my matted hair, "no fool to brighten up the conclusion. Life, reality; all dark, black, and full of unhappy endings."

"You're sick."

"Me? Sick?" I scoffed, head pounding painfully, "Look in the mirror."

"No, what I meant was ill," he retorted, eyes narrowed, "You're not looking at me, you're looking beside me."

As he said it, I was hit with a wave of dizziness. His own fault for me not looking at him, he kept moving. That chicken must have been beyond off. It was miles from harmless. I was turning green, I knew it. The thought flickered in my mind to barf on Danna-teme.

"Damn mafia," I muttered right before I fell out of my seat, "Trying to off Rin again."

If I wasn't so delusional, I wouldn't have heard him snicker as I passed out.

**

* * *

**

Author's Notes:

OH. MY. _GOD!!_

I left out a whole chapter! I feel so retarded. The whole story probably doesn't make sense now! I'm so sorry! Please forgive me! –cries tears of shame-


	5. Hospital

**Disclaimer:** If I owned Host Club, I would obviously be very rich and very awesome, the latter of which I only have a chance of being in a thousand years, the former, never.

* * *

I blinked open my eyes and instantly snapped them closed, raising my arms defensively against the singeing bright light.

"Damnit, turn down the bloody lights!" I shouted, "Trying to blind me or something?!"

I sensed the barrage lessen and cracked one eye open, followed by the other.

"Where the hell am I?"

"Typical," remarked the only voice that could make me think _ah, hell no_, "Swearing right from the start."

"Devil-sama," I demanded, wrenching around to glare, "Where am I?"

"Hospital," Kyoya said indifferently, turning a page in his book (which looked a lot like _my_ book) without looking up, "You passed out from food poisoning."

"Let me rephrase then," I said in mock civility, "_Why_ the hell am I in the hospital?!"

He looked at me like the fall had knocked out a few brain cells as well (it may have, the rate things were going), "You fainted. From food poisoning."

"Thank you!" I growled, slamming my fists into the sheets of the bed, "But how did I go from staring down dried gum at high noon to attempted blindness by fluorescent lights?!" the latter I might add, had gone back just as bright immediately after I opened my eyes. Danna-teme's position next to the switch had nothing to do with this I'm sure.

"People were concerned, you know," he closed his (my, damnit!) book to glance up at me, "you did fall to the floor rambling on about mob hits. I can't tell you the amount of accusing looks I earned from your little joke."

_Mob hits…accusing looks…_

I laughed with gusto at the thoughts of old grannies glaring down Kyoya, brandishing heavy purses threateningly, and him having to explain why-

"How did you get off anyways?" I said, "Must have done something to convince the fellow patrons of the transit that you didn't take me out for the boss," I burst into laughter again, "That would be Tamaki-ou, right?"

He gave a weird smile. Weird as in more close to grim than a smirk, but closer to amused than a grimace. Like 'I was expecting as much and it was just as funny yet disconcerting as I imagined'.

Oh yeah, that's when it hit me.

"Whoa! What do you have me hopped up on?!" I checked my hands and wrists frantically for IVs, nose for oxygen tube, something that would give me, "Some kind of laughing gas, right?"

He smirked, "Antibiotics. It's the first time I've ever seen them have such an effect."

Antibiotics my ass. I was freaking laughing at images in my head! That's opium _at least_!

"Whatever," I said, looking around, drugged up enough, apparently, to not be concerned about being stoned, "after you got the people of the bus to believe you didn't kill me, how'd I get from wherever we were to the hospital?"

"Oddly enough," he said wistfully, "the bus happened to be near the hospital at the time. Lucky, huh?" Remember that phrase for me, it'll come back soon (to bite me in the ass), "A nurse returning from break actually spotted you being hauled off. They didn't want to let me in at first. They thought I was suspicious as well."

As much as I wished it did, that didn't add up. People automatically equate handsomeness with kind nature, so the front desk should have believed every word he said, even if he said aliens had abducted me and sucked out my entrails, with a smile and a 'right this way, sir', so that meant…

"Which hospital are we at?"

He smiled, "I wondered if you'd immediately come to that conclusion. Yes, by the same stroke of luck that put you next to a hospital made it the very one owned by the competitors of Ootori," because my luck just runs that way; further and further down to hell, "So no," he opened his (my. Grr.) book again, "I'm not sitting here by choice."

Obviously. I never assumed that. I just hadn't reached that point yet. His presence was prioritized beneath 'where the hell am I' and 'how'd the hell I get here', under the name 'what the hell are you doing here'.

"The entire hospital has me on watch," he said conversationally, "making sure I don't infiltrate any secure files or some other nonsense. Oh yes," he added without a change in tone, "I should probably tell you they think you're faking to get me inside. I wouldn't expect the same hospitality they give other patients."

"What?! Why didn't you just say you poisoned me yourself?!" he gave me a look, "Oh right, mob whack, okay."

"Coming down from your high?" he inquired lazily, turning a page.

"Probably," a whopping smack resounded in my head, "oh crap, that was loud. What just happened?"

"A door, Harding-san," came a clipped voice and a severe female doctor walked briskly inside, "I trust you've heard one before?"

Kyoya, clairvoyant as ever, made a slight shake of his head to indicate keeping my mouth shut. Like hell _that_ would stop me, but it delayed me long enough for the doctor to continue.

"You seem to have encountered some bacteria, I'm told," she said, flipping through some kind of charts.

"Told?" I asked. When he said they wouldn't be hospitable, Kyoya wasn't kidding.

"Your…friend, seemed to think you came upon some bad food?" the doctor said annoyed.

"Well, yeah, that chicken seemed pretty off. Probably bio-hazardous."

"Nevertheless, you must stay here for the time being," she said.

"What?!" I nearly screamed, "Stay _here_?! In a _hospital_?! With nothing to _do_?!"

Kyoya snickered and the doctor seemed taken aback, "It's only for one night. Just until the antibiotics flush out your system."

"Flush out- oh crap," I winced and shoved off the blanket to run to the bathroom. When I came out, I nearly launched at the still-snickering Kyoya.

"You bastard! Why didn't you _tell _me I was on laxatives?!"

"It was far more amusing not to," he replied smiling, grabbing both of my flailing arms that trying to flay him alive (or dead, it didn't really matter at that point).

"Why you-!"

"Harding-san!" the doctor ordered, totally shocked, "You must _rest_!"

"I will, as soon as I punch Danna-teme's face in!" To me, nothing was more logical than that intent. The fact I said it with a 'what else would I do' tone only added to her shock.

"You heard the doctor," Kyoya said with a smirk, pushing my fist away, "you have to _rest_."

The way he said it was _way_ more demeaning. The last thing I wanted was to spend my night off from homework lying in a hospital bed because I ate _one_ bad chicken. I grudgingly sat back down on the bed, but I didn't stop glaring. The doctor made sure I was going to stay and rushed off, presumably to tell her superior that the infiltrator's bait looked somewhat less willing than they originally thought. I made quite the impression, I'm sure.

"What's this about telling them I was food-poisoned?" I glared suspiciously at him, "I never told you about the chicken."

He shrugged, "My family runs several hospitals. The symptoms you displayed could have been linked to food poisoning."

I caught on immediately. 'Could be', yeah right. 'Could be', my decidedly full bladder.

"So you basically BS'd my way in here," I said, with not a trace of doubt.

"Basically," he said with a smile.

"I had no idea you _cared_ so much," I spat. He _was_ displaying an unusual amount of concern for my plight. Let alone concern at all.

"I don't," he answered simply, raising his eyebrows, "I had to prove _somehow_ to those people that I hadn't tried to kill you. Taking you to the hospital obviously confirmed to them I genuinely cared for your health." Nice. He totally convinced a bus load of concerned citizens he was just as well-meaning as them. Is there anything a good-looking person can't do?

"Speaking of killing you," which of course, had very little to do with anything, "what could you have possibly eaten to get as sick as you did? That chicken was either uncooked or you picked it off the floor."

I turned red, and muttered, "Five second rule." He _had_ to already know that's what I had done.

He laughed. On second thought, maybe he hadn't.

"What, were you out of money again and had to scrabble for scraps on the floor?"

"Unlike you," I shot back, "who scrabbles for recognition wherever it may lie."

"And you?" he returned just as quickly, "Your smart mouth and disrespect has gotten you where? Balancing on the edge of demotion to D-class as your less acidic sister rises higher in B. Admirable material."

"Hacking into federal official's laptop for blackmail and intimidating those lower than you into service, admirable indeed," I spat sarcastically.

"Engaging in illegal activity, asking for trouble, I am no lower than you."

"Ah, but that leaves us both on edge of crime, doesn't it?"

"But who shall receive greater punishment? I with my high standing, or you with street performer's personality?"

"Those who stand high have the farthest to fall. As demonstrated by you having to lower yourself to taking me to a _hospital_ just so a bus of _commoners_ won't spread _rumors_ of you in the _mafia_."

"You must have been a performer indeed, if the public assumes the need for mob intervention."

How he turned the whole situation back on me must be some kind of gift. Because that's _exactly_ what he did, reducing me to having no comeback whatsoever. He smirked and began to read my book, which he probably hadn't read a word of yet today; he was too busy antagonizing me. Kyoya didn't have to pretend for long though, because the doctor returned with another, presumably more senior, physician.

"Well," the latter said, a bit unsettled, "It seems Harding-san is actually sick," he said it like I wasn't sick before I threatened Kyoya's life, "There seems be no reason to let you go home before completing treatment. You, on the other hand," he turned stiffly to Kyoya, "may leave. Harding-san seems to be stable enough to release alone later today, but it would be best if he was allowed some sleep."

Ear to door, perhaps? Sounds like the good doctors heard every word of our last conversation. No doubt of Kyoya's less malicious than usual intents could remain after that (at least, during the first half. The second half may have made them rethink that conclusion). But finally, he was getting kicked out! Yes!

"No, I was instructed to wait until her sister arrived to leave."

Someone hook me up again, I must be delusional. Kyoya _wasn't_ leaving?! Under _Rin's_ orders?!

_Huh?!_

"Very well," the man said suspiciously, then departed with the other doctor.

The first words spoken, of course, were mine.

"What the h-?!"

"I told you, didn't I? Tamaki wanted to 'try new experiences of all kinds', so he was planning a 'commoner's' trip the convenience store, so you're my alibi out. We've been to enough commoners' stores as it is."

"So Rin's not coming?" I said as if on the verge of tears. Stupid storyteller that I am.

"No," he said carefully, suspicious of my sudden decision to be dramatic, "supposedly she's held up at some kind of toy convention. At least that's the story until Tamaki finishes his convenience store run."

I flopped down on the bed, "So I'm stuck, no _locked_," I remember the suspicious looks the doctors had given Kyoya. No way were they letting him out, "in a room, having nothing to do, with of all people, _you_?!" I groaned, "This sucks."

"You don't have to make it sound so dirty, though," he added amusedly and I turned red as I realize it _had_ had some perverted connotations.

"I thought cultured minds didn't belong in the gutter," I said sarcastically.

"That would leave yours where…?"

"Quiet, Shadow King. I'm supposed to be resting. Besides," I sat up, pillow in lap, "I'm sure half the building is at our door listening in."

The muffled sounds of many feet rushing away made me smile sarcastically and him smirk.

"How subtle," I said sardonically.

"Has anything they've done yet led you to believe they're subtle?" Kyoya asked. Fair point.

"No," I sighed, "They could have at least put a clock in here," I said after staring down every wall, "or window, or a TV. Why not a TV?"

I jumped up at that moment to use the bathroom, laxatives taking their toll.

"At least they had a toilet," he said with a smirk, but I was too lazy to get up and hit him.

I laid there for a second, then, aggravated by the lack of anything to do, sat up.

"Bored?" he inquired, "Do you still have your book of stories?"

"No," I glared at his hand, which very obviously held that very book, "Do you know where they put my hoodie?"

He pointed to a bundle in the corner and I got up to check. Sure enough, the no book corner was poking out of the pocket.

"I've been meaning to ask about that," Kyoya remarked, nodding to my hoodie, "What happened to your namesake, Peppermint?"

"Don't call me that," I said immediately. He was still looking at the navy blue hoodie in my hands, "It…shrunk. In the wash."

"Really? I knew you hardly washed it, but to shrink so much?"

"Fine," I snapped, "After the mud incident, I had to use a power washer. Apparently I made the cardinal guy-with-laundry mistake," I was banking on him never hearing about people who actually had to do their own laundry.

"It's pink now, isn't it?" Damnit.

"Yes," I muttered.

"Bleach it," he replied calmly, "the white part only."

I stared open-mouthed at him.

"That's another quintessential experience of why I want to avoid Tamaki's little escapades."

Kyoya. Ootori. Washing. Laundry.

I cracked up then and there. I could see him looking the machine up and down, pondering where the clothes went in and which of the array of products to use to make them clean. I could see expression on his face as he held up in dismay a pink collared shirt. The mind of a storyteller, I tell you, is an often entertaining thing.

"…Oh crap, I wished I had seen that," I said wiping away tears of mirth, "What a sight to behold! Ootori-danna doing laundry!"

"I assure you it's far less amusing during the actual occurrence. Where you laughing when your precious hooded sweatshirt turned pink?"

"No," I managed to say, struggling to take deep, calming breaths, "No, I wasn't. But the prestigious Ouran Host Club; doing laundry!"

After another explosion of laughter, I finally was tired enough to take some actual air in.

Just in time for another potty break, of course. Is laxative supposed to be this sporadic?

_Just when will I get out of here?_ I wondered, _How long have I even been here?_

I thought about it. I didn't feel the need to puke, and I obviously could walk fine on my feet or I would have never made it to the bathroom in time. I definitely wasn't lethargic, anything but, I was incredibly bored though. I doubt that counted for anything. I had slept for an undeterminable amount of time. I still had my tee shirt and shorts on, so they apparently they found no reason to be concerned for my circulation, even if they had taken my shoes and I still don't know where they are-no wait. There they are.

Under Kyoya's chair of course.

The latter excepted, I seemed perfectly fine to leave. So. Why. Wasn't. I?!

Right as I returned (once again) from the toilet, and sat down, the doctor arrived to say I was free to go.

Yeah, I was still delusional. Of course it was the nurse to force me back in bed.

As soon as she left, Kyoya said, "I'm surprised you didn't ask for food. The whole point of this all was to empty your stomach; you must be starving."

Like I would admit weakness after that look he gave me as I dashed into the can for the trillionth time. My body had different ideas.

It sounded more like thunder booming inside the room than a stomach growling. And it really hurt too. I winced.

"That bad?" he asked on the opposite side of the spectrum from pity.

I glared darkly at him, "Like a thousand swirling vortexes consuming my insides, slowly but steadily devouring me outward. Yes, I'm hungry. But hospital food makes more people puke than not."

I may be starving, but I had at least _a_ standard. I was saved from certain starvation by the door bursting open once more to reveal…

Did I mention that Kyoya wasn't the only one to make me think _ah, hell no_?

"Puppy-chan!"

"Ty-Ty! Haru-chan said you got sick!"

"Lemme me guess. Peppermint…"

"Ate some toxin-infested food…"

"So he got sick!"

"Sorry, Harding-san, I tried to make them not come."

I never thought they could fit in such a small room, much less together!

"Why the hell are you here?!"

"Aww, is Puppy-chan still sick?" Tamaki asked Kyoya.

"How did you get past security?" was his only answer.

"We bought food from the convenience store when we heard you were sick!" Hikaru said, thrusting a bag of chips my way.

"Actually it was more of Kyoya-kun whacked you for the yakuza!" Kaoru informed brightly, handing me some candy bars.

"Unfortunately," Haruhi interrupted, "our source was rather second hand, so-"

"Puppy-chan! Did they already pump your stomach?! If they haven't, are we allowed to give you give you these?" he held up a, unbelievably enough, box of doughnuts.

"No way, doughnuts?!" I exclaimed happily, making a grab for them. As I began stuffing my face, Tamaki explained how they got in.

"We said we were here to see a patient and they just let us in!" Of course.

"Naw bat nine," I swallowed, "Not that I'm ungrateful or anything, but why did you come to visit _me_?"

"They needed a reason to buy commoner's food," Haruhi said dryly, "Don't worry, they won't try it again. I doubt the clerk will even let them enter the store after this experience."

"If they bring food, they're welcome anytime!"

I commenced to eat the feast before me and watched the seven in a new light. I tried to observe how they acted without the cynical eye I usually used. As far as I could tell however, they were far goofier than their fangirls could ever imagine. So much for an unbiased eye, they were the circus come to town.

"Doctor dropped by," Hikaru announced after a few moments, "said Peppermint's free to go."

"Does that mean you're leaving me?" Once again, too hopeful.

"Nope," Hunny said, "We're leaving _with_ you!"

"Great." They can bring all the food they want, but they still drove me mad after it was gone.

I reluctantly put my hoodie on and trudged out the door as the club excitedly talked about future cosplays. Great, more circus chaos, just what I needed.

Outside, I realized it was later than I thought. It was full night and the streetlamps were on. Of course I had no idea where I was.

Opting not to go on the same bus as those lunatics, I judged the distance to walk to my house about…

Way too far.

There was no way I would make it back by midnight. Or noon for that matter. I could board another bus, but I wouldn't make it in time. The last ride home I hitched had gone spectacularly well what with all the international crime hanging over my head now, so a no there as well. I was saved from adding stealing a bike to my blackmail list by Haruhi dragging me along.

"No way am I going to be the sole target of those idiots," he said. Human shield. Another one of my many occupations now.

"Haruhi-chan, my dau-" Tamaki abruptly stopped his sentence when he caught sight of Haruhi's captive.

"Yea! Ty-Ty's coming!"

"Ah crap," I quickly tried to make a grab for the front seat, but Haruhi was as determined as I and hadn't been sitting around for hours of inactivity.

He tried placing me in the back, among the thick of things, but I managed to squirm away, leaving him to face the disturbing overbearing love from Tamaki. I personally went for a farther seat, but the driver told me to sit down. Apparently she wanted to keep them at the back as well. I had no choice but to sit in the seat in front of the twins.

"So, Peppermint," Hikaru said, leaning over to put his head to my right.

"What did you eat?" Kaoru asked from my left.

"Chicken," I said, turning around, wishing I had thought of the subway.

"No green peppermints?"

"Speaking of peppermints," Kaoru added.

"What happened to yours?" They asked in unison.

"It shrunk," Kyoya said sarcastically before I could answer, "in the wash."

"Ah," Hikaru said, "I see."

They seemed to plan to ask Kyoya later, because they returned to the other conversation in progress. I stared appraisingly at Kyoya, "You're going to make them call me 'Pinky' or something, aren't you?"

"Who knows," he said cryptically with a smile, "It could be anything."

Knowing him, it won't be anything pretty.

**

* * *

**

**Author's Notes: **That's all I have typed so far, so you'll have to wait longer for the next update! Sorry! But never fear, I will be working on my other, slightly neglected, fanfic until then, so check it out! Hope to update soon!


	6. Obee baba

**Disclaimer:** If I owned Host Club, _all_ the hosts would wear glasses. (Megane fetish? What are you talking about, of course not! –shifty eyes-)

* * *

Oh and guess what? That bleach trick? Just bleach the white parts? A load of bull.

I still had a pink hoodie when I was through, only now it had white spots everywhere. I'd look like molding cotton candy. I decided to just wear the navy hoodie and leave it be. Maybe the twins will stop calling me Peppermint for once.

Of course by the time I had gone downstairs, my hoodie was the last thing on my mind because I heard Father speak those dreaded words, "There's something I need to discuss with you, Taylor."

I stared at him, every possible meaning of that phrase passing through my brain.

_Okay, so guys don't usually get up and pregnant, so I doubt I'm getting an annoying new sibling._

Yes, _every_ meaning.

_I can't think of any family members I'd cry over if they bought the farm, so I'm not attending a funeral. _

_Wedding? No, not after the last time they tried to dress me up. That cake should have had better foundation anyways. And a 'Thou Shalt Not Scoop Grubby Handfuls of Frosting From This Cake' sign._

_Surely he couldn't have find out about my little part time job._

Of course, by job, I meant _enslavement_, but that was a trivial detail.

"Your great aunt Yuna is visiting for the week and-" Speaking of family I wouldn't cry over if they kicked the bucket…(well, maybe. Tears of inexpressible joy, that is. Completely. _Inexpressible_. Joy)

"-Obee-baba?! That hag's-?!"

"Yes," he cut me off before I could into some _real_ expression of opinion, "her." Obviously, he was about as thrilled as I. Obee-baba was the bane (in my case, one of the banes) of our existence, as evidence by his lack of reproof of my language.

"And as you know," he continued wearily, "Obee…san," fifty years passed in that pause, it took so long for him to bring himself to not follow my example, "is not too fond of our decorating habits," the books, to be exact. Well, that and…the other half as well, "and thus we will have to clean up before her arrival."

"When's-"

"Three. Days." It took all he had to spit out the phrase.

I cursed. Father nodded, "My thoughts exactly."

He sighed and stood up, probably calculating how to clean up the back half of the house. The front portion may harbor every book we ever laid hands on, but the back showed the result of two (fine, more like one and a half) less-than-cleanly guys, no matter how sophisticated, living alone.

Without maids coming every day, our house tends to collect half-filled coffee mugs (almost always past the state of matter it began as), stock market quotes, half-eaten toast (occasionally accompanied by a plate), various newspaper articles, ranging from already published to scribbled shorthand, half-unwrapped cereal bars (often found face-down sticking up in the air in flowerpots), and torn envelopes all sitting out on the table, spread along the counters, sprawled across the floor, etc.

Both tasks of cleaning and moving the books were formable indeed, but the real problem lay not in if that cheese on top of the door frame (yes, door frame) was safe to touch with un-bio-waste-management-gloved hands. No, it was where to move all the books.

There was no room anywhere for them all, or more accurately, no _specified_ room. We never got around to converting one of the rooms into a library, (maybe we should have used the guest room. Hehe, where would Obee-baba sleep now, huh?) and no storage or organization equipment were ever bought. Sadly inconvenient when situations such as these occur, but one hardly prepares for Obee-baba to trample down one's door like one hardly prepares for blizzards in August. Such devastating natural disasters as those are merely heard about, not equipped against.

Rin and Mother, too, are ruled out. They are not allowed to know of this. The matters of Obee-baba and her…charming aspects concern only the Harding family and its heir (because, seriously, honestly, swear-to-gods-ly, I really am older than Rin. Really. I'm telling the truth. And it doesn't matter how many times you read over it, it won't change.). We were not bringing Switzerland into this war.

Of course, this left about…no options. The only possible place left is to cram the ones in the hall into my room (and bathroom and admittedly small closet).

That would leave me no place to sleep though. I let out a sigh as I left for school. Only a miracle could save me at this point.

"Something on your mind, Pink-kun?"

But they say the devil can do a lot in exchange for your soul.

"Nothing but my undying hatred for you, Danna-teme," I smiled in dead sarcastic brightness.

"I'm sure," Kyoya continued unfazed, not looking up from his keyboard, "the last thing on your mind involves _family_ business," because he wanted to make sure I heard the 'family' part.

And oh, how I did hear it.

I whipped around, slamming his laptop shut, "What do you know?" I hissed. I had only found out this morning, if he had known Obee-baba was coming, that meant he would have known beforehand, "You sure as hell better be bluffing, Ootori-teme."

He smiled. I must not have trapped his hands under the screen. Bad luck. "Yuna Harding recently let drop to some business partners she will be traveling later in the month therefore had to postpone some meetings. Considering your situation, I assume she will be visiting to bring your father back into familial politics. She's…an imperious woman, so I've heard," he said that last bit with too much sadistic amusement than necessary.

"How. Long. Is. _Recently_?" I asked dangerously, "Why hasn't this…"

_Oh that's right, the whole sadist thing, now I remember._ (insert mental eye-roll)

"Never mind," I spat and turned back to where I sat. I wasn't wallowing in my thoughts long, because Kyoya asked, lightly as can be, "I presume you need a place to put all those books?"

"Why, you offering?" I responded sarcastically. Kyoya would need a thick coat indeed when I let him touch all that blackmail, because hell will most definitely be frozen over. Thrice.

"Suggesting, actually," he said. I heard the clicking of keys so apparently I had done no long term damage to his computer (too bad), "perhaps you could put them in some of those rooms you didn't let me see."

Perhaps I could push him off a cliff and not get caught. Both suggestions were just as likely because I knew for a fact he had black-op forces. He'd shown them to me when I signed the contract in blood. (So _that's_ when I sold my soul to Devil-teme. No wonder I haven't been able to make any successful deals with him!)

Occult bondage aside, my mind had, of course, turned to his last visit at my residence. I waved away the blacken thoughts before I actually did break his laptop and fingers, "No room," I said curtly, "They're in the hall for a reason."

"And your sister?"

He, despite past experience, probably didn't know he had struck a nerve.

"Even worse there," I fabricated, "What with all the toys and all. That leaves no one to take them, and no, I'm not getting cursed, indebted, jinxed, and blackmailed by sacrificing my virgin books to _you_."

He, like the inhuman soul-stealer he was, never reacted in any way to my tribal references. But bonus points for the look he gave when I used a blood-deity metaphor.

"Didn't pass my mind," he informed, if a bit tartly. Like hell it didn't. We wouldn't be having this conversation if he wasn't trying to lead me into some pyrrhic deal involving him using my books against me.

So I surprised when he didn't let it drop.

"What about you? Put the books in your room, and likely your two adjoining rooms," quit memorizing my floor plan, bastard, "and play tenet to a hapless leaser."

The gaping hole in this reasoning being no one was stupid enough to let me terrorize their household. I probably spoke that aloud, but it wouldn't shock me if he _had_ used his dark powers to read my mind.

"Terrorize?" he said amusedly. _Like you didn't have a similar word in mind_, "Not quite the word I'd choose," Exactly, "More akin to reform," Uh-huh, sure, "Then again, it would have to be someone aware of your secret."

Gee, thanks for narrowing it down to _next to no one_.

"Is this some kind of offer?" I said sardonically, "'A week's vacation in Ootori's _expansive_ mansion', yeah right. The most likely scenario that has a chance in hell has me signing up for a maid job or something, which I'm," I gestured to my wrinkled and dirty hoodie, "obviously unsuited for."

"Tempting, but no. As interesting as making you clean up instead of make a mess of things sounds, there are few times your presence would be tolerable."

Cryptic. I decided not to take the bait.

However, the conversation did simplify things. Basically, it was me or the books. Moving books up the stairs and me out would be easier, but asking for a book-sitter is easier than asking for a room.

Neither, as Danna-teme so _graciously_ reminded me, was possible because I had no one to ask. My only choice was to stuff them in my room (and two adjoining rooms, damn him) and just stick it out for two days.

First order of duty, however….

* * *

"Don't open that!" I shouted quickly to Kei. He froze, hand hovering over the knob of my closet door.

"Why not?" he asked tentatively, balancing a stack of books in his left arm.

"Open it and it will put an Everest avalanche to shame." Kei couldn't move his hand away fast enough.

Kei and Kyo are the two college kids who found me the navy hoodie when mine had gone pink. They happened to be at Mess Hall yesterday afternoon and agreed, though not having any room for books in a dorm room, to help me move the books upstairs. Thankfully, they have seen bigger houses than my own (Kyoya irrelevant, we _did_ have a big house), so didn't comment further than "_All_ these books?!"

"Just stack them in the corner," I said and he gave me a look.

"What corner? There _are_ no more corners, kid."

He had a point. All the walls were lined meters thick with books and I'm pretty sure I had run out of room in the bathroom already. Kei just dropped them in front of the closet.

Suddenly, the bathroom door swung open and Kyo came bursting out, slamming it behind him.

"Kei-senpai! There's this-! Kid!" he ran over and grabbed my shoulders, "Kid, you won't believe it! This _thing_ came out of _nowhere_ and attacked me! It ate my toes and got my finger!" he held up his right hand, index finger bent to appear as a nub, "But I killed it. See?"

Kyo whipped out the severely misshapen plunger from behind his back and thrust it at me triumphantly. We all promptly burst out in laughs, and it probably didn't help that I launched into a shocked account of the rogue plunger that escaped and crawled into the sewers on the news, congratulating our new hero.

I had learned quickly that my first impression of Kyo as quiet was very, very false. In fact, they shared my love of jokes in a way living in a building full of wisecracks could only be to blame.

"But seriously," he said after we had laughed our share, "you won't fill that bathroom any more. You only got here to put the rest."

"But good news," Kei added, "only a few left. Forty or fifty, give a few."

"Well," I said sadly, "I'll miss you, room, but this is goodbye."

With that, we loaded the last of it in and effectively sealed all access from my quarters.

I had just closed the door with a fake sniffle when a loud shout rang out.

"Oh sh-Taylor!" Father called, "It's her!"

"Her?" Kei said, then Kyo asked, "Who's-_oh_."

Obee-baba had come early.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Dramatic cliffie! I know, horrible. Originally I wanted to have a mini-time lapse from the club to Obee-baba's arrival, but I love Kei and Kyo so much (way before they had names or personalities. In fact, they were always my favorite.) I had to put them in there. And the whole 'people that don't belong' thing too. The only thing that keeps me from changing the genre to suspense is that they're getting out of there with only dead luck and convenient klutziness. And Kyo's taking the plunger with him. Souvenir.

**Where I've been:** Exams. Final. Exams. And could they keep with the all one week schedule, no! In fact I had my AP back on the fifteen and fourth block exams are suppose to be on Tuesday. Bleh.

I probably won't get much time to update because of my need to write more fanfics, pursuit of my first job, (to buy my own for my-exclusive use laptop, so I _am_ trying to update. It's hard when you got an internet word-game obsessed mom and two fanfic writers, one of which (me) also writes original stories, share the _same_ computer with the _broken_ Word link that you have to go indirectly to open, and the flash drives that go missing or JUST WON'T WORK, and the ten pm computer curfew, and the blah blah blah…), summer homework, mission trip upstate (or was it downstate?), trip to Costa Rica (my life is horrible, right?), trip to DC for the funeral, but on the bright side OUR PARENTS CANCELLED OUR POOL MEMBERSHIP!

Rawr. Anyways, I will try my best. I hope I don't die.


	7. Escape

**Disclaimer:** If I owned Host Club, I would change the uniform

* * *

"Quick," I said, pushing Kei and Kyo along, "we've got to hide!"

They only merely looked extremely amused. By now I knew they would treat this as a game rather than a matter of life and death (life or limb, whatever. Same difference). But whatever got their sorry asses out of the war zone was fine with me.

"You got to hold her off, Father!" I shouted, "Take one for the team! She's already set to make you _want_ to do as she says!"

I only heard a sad, suffering sigh before I jumped onto the banister and slid down, following Kyo towards the back of the house.

That idiot still had my plunger.

"Move!" I heard Kei shout, likely at an inanimate object, followed by Kyo pushing through and knocking the broom out of the way with his new souvenir. They both burst out through the back door and turned back to me.

"We wish you luck," Kei said.

"Judging by you two's reaction, you'll need it," Kyo remarked, "and can I keep this?"

I grinned, "Go forth, brave knight, and keep your sword at the ready."

They both saluted and marched over-exaggeratedly off.

I stood smiling, shaking my head, for a moment before reality barreled into me once more.

"Damnit," I muttered, trying to conjure up my best Rin-spy skills. I swiftly sprinted to the broom closet, hoping I wouldn't be found.

Yes, looking back, it _was_ an officially asinine idea.

Right as I closed the door, I heard another burst open and picture rattle on the walls with the force of the blow.

And you thought I was kidding about the trampling down the door.

"Honestly, boy," the anti-nostalgic voice pierced into me and I wasn't even being addressed, "the landscaping around here is dismal! The only decent piece of foliage out there is that willow I so graciously gave you upon your arrival to this cramped excuse for an estate."

Of course she's referring to _that_ willow. What other form of arrival could have possibly heralded that damn tree's existence?

"In fact, I met a lovely woman the other day, she has beautiful grounds, you know, and she…"

_I hate you Teme. Why are you always right?!_ I thought angrily. Obee-baba _had_ come to get Father into familial politics again. Which of course, undoubtedly would lead to ranting on 'that toy woman' and all the supposed filth left behind by her. Which is me, by the way. Some of that filth.

"Tsk," I said disdainfully at the thought, which was lobotomy-worthy because suddenly I was assaulted by light filling my hiding spot.

"Look at this child!" exclaimed Obee-baba, pulling me out, not leaving gaps for escape, "If not for those disgusting dirt-colored eyes," the one physical trait I _had_ inherited from my mother (though Mom's eyes would be described as 'chocolate-colored'), "I would not have recognized her! And as for these clothes-!" she said the words like she was too aghast to finish the sentence, "This dust rag hardly counts for a human being, much less a girl, nearly a young woman! Well, I guess I'll just have to revise my plan to include turning you, child, into a real and proper girl."

I went on the defensive and Father knew what was coming, but couldn't stop me in time.

"If you dare put me in a dress, old hag-!"

"Such a filthy mouth!" Her gasp of shock moved her far away enough for me to scramble out the door, running as fast as I could.

"Get back here at once, child!"

"In your dreams, hag!" I called back, giving the one-finger salute, hurdling off the drive and down the road.

My heart was pounding as I kept running to make sure she wasn't on my tail, not really having a destination in mind and letting my feet take me wherever I should land.

The moment I was sure I wasn't being chased was the moment I realized I had run five of the eight kilometers I usually rode to school. The exact route. I slowed to a stop.

_School? What the hell?!_ I couldn't figure out what could possibly make me run to school, aside from the likely cruise control setting I had from going the same way practically everyday, but shook my head clear of thoughts.

It was time to relax and get away from it all. I smiled and adjusted course to Mess Hall.

Just to get a drink, of course. I hadn't forgotten the chicken incident.

* * *

I grinned when I caught sight of the sign above the renovated old steakhouse. Every time I saw it I was reminded that Mess Hall was no sit-down restaurant nor was it a bar.

Okay, originally it was a soup kitchen, but one opened further into the area where it was needed and Mess Hall had become an exchange post of sorts. It kept its name, but now specialized in the trading of stories and directions, a perfect place for tourists to come if we weren't such an immensely intimidating bunch.

After all, it was filled with smoke when I entered. Which wouldn't have been a problem if I hadn't flung open the doors and breathed in deeply the sweet scent of…eau de la racking cough.

"Oi! Maru!" I coughed again, waving a hand to clear the thick fog, "What'd you burn?!"

"Quiet, ya cockatoo," he growled back good-naturedly from behind the register. I grinned, "Got a newbie cooking, don't you? Careful for food poisoning, now."

"I told you already I don't owe you anything, Too. You ate it off the floor and you only have your buddies to thank for that."

I do admit I did eat that death chicken off the floor on a bet that I couldn't do it. Speaking of which…

"Cockatoo's here?!" a low voice shouted over the dull roar of a crowded room, "Not on sick leave any more?"

The smoke started to billow faster and I laughed as I heard a girl's panicked voice shout, "I'm so sorry!" the sound of a blasting of a fire extinguisher and the smoke cleared.

A select few cheers rose at my appearance and several others turned to where the large group of tables with people cheering sat. My enthusiasts ranged from huge bikers to oh crap that's Cable isn't it?

Cable grinned at me from behind those orange goggles of his.

"Well, Cockatoo?" Akira prompted, "What do you have to tell us today?"

I smiled, "Well…"

So I twisted a tale around me like a web, acting out scenes and motions, jumping up and down, spinning in circles and just generally having a great time. It's hard to describe the feeling of truly telling a story. One could say I absorbed their emotions, their reactions, pulling out laughs and chuckles and weaving them together to create something that will never shine as much as it did that moment. Or one could just say I fell into my element and got lost in my story.

Most would say I was just having fun.

I took a bow when I had finished and my table mates offered me some soda to drink. I happily agreed and was completely caught off guard when Cable dropped (yes, dropped, as in from the ceiling) down beside me.

"Cockatoo, huh?" he grinned, "Nice name. Ya do draw 'ttention."

Akira arrived with my Coke and I took a sip only to be bombarded with inquires the moment Cable opened his mouth to add, "Funny how ya never seem ta talk 'bout ya _real_ life."

"Real life, eh?"

"What's this spider mean?"

"Surely you don't have more interesting stories to tell."

"Okay, okay, quiet down!" I said, shooting a glare at Cable, "You all know as well as I that we don't share specifics."

"Fine then," Akira said, "be general then. So no cases of mistaken identity? No international crime spree? This is a place to entertain, so please, entertain."

Ignoring the fact that both his suggestions had been dead on didn't prevent Cable from saying, "Start 'staken identity."

"Fine," I growled grudgingly and they all laughed. We're like a family really, no prisoners taken.

"I may possibly, occasionally, sometimes, be known more often as a boy than as a, ah, girl."

This put them in stitches of course. Like the thought never crossed their mind, when I first came I had to _tell_ them I was a girl!

"Yeah, yeah, very hilarious," I said sarcastically, "And I'm sure you all would make fine gentlemen yourself, hanging from ceilings and naming people after birds."

This made them laugh a bit more but they eventually shut up.

"So, Too-_kun_," they were so worked up now, they'll laugh at anything, "If we don't fill your quota of gentlemen, what qualifies? Holding out for a prince?"

I laughed at the image of Tamaki popping into my head, "Prince my ass!"

"Well, what does qualify?" Akira then added in mock solemnity, "you're not asexual are you?"

This was followed by uproarious laughter and as soon as it began to settle down, I made my move.

I stood up and put my hands dramatically to my heart, "Oh my! Where to begin?" I sighed in a totally cheesy airy voice of a love-struck maiden, "My perfect man must be tall! Dark!" I emphasized each 'quality' with a twirl, spinning carelessly in the picture of true, pure love, "And _handsome_!" I sighed the word, "He _must_ look good in a suit!" I caught Cable's eye when I said, "Especially a _blue_ one!"

I knew he probably knew everything involving me and the host club, so it got him to snicker in anticipation of what I was going to say next.

Meanwhile, everyone was laughing at my antics in describing 'my perfect man', "Glasses are _essential_ and if he has grey eyes!" I pseudo-swooned and Cable was clutching his sides in laughter at my satirical description of the Shadow King.

"And if he's rich, oh I will squeal with joy-!" I was going to punctuate with said squeal if my twirl hadn't slammed me into someone with an 'umph!' I spun around, prepared to apologize with a fake explanation of 'love knowing no bounds' or some other cheese-ass line but instead uttered, "Ah, sh-"

"I had no idea you admired me so much. I'm flattered."

"And she's screwed," Cable muttered under his breath with perfect eloquence.

Because, honestly, I was hardly getting away free declaiming my love practically to Kyoya's face.

He just kept smirking and I pushed through angrily, suddenly not very cheerful at all. I snatched the money Maru held up for me and stomped out, knowing Danna-teme would follow me.

"You certainly know how to work a crowd," he commented once we were outside in the open air.

"What," I said darkly, turning slowly around, "the _hell_ is your oh so noble hide doing anywhere _near_ a place like Mess Hall?"

"Hmph," was his only reply before continuing, "For all your talk and distain, you have potential for the manipulation that's so repellent to you."

I grit my teeth. First Obee-baba, now Devil-teme, at this rate I'll go on a frustrated murder spree. "I don't have time for this." I turned away and would have gone on my way if he had not said mockingly, "Yuna-obee getting the best of you?" I stopped. I turned around.

I punched him in the nose.

Or at least I tried. He, as usual, caught my fist before it could make contact. I must be very predictable.

"If you insist on provoking me to violence, at least let me make a mark," I growled. He didn't reply. He seemed to have been caught off guard. Maybe I wasn't as predictable as I thought.

* * *

I stormed away anyways, filled with dark thoughts but not one of them pertaining to what Kyoya was doing at Mess Hall.

When I returned home, there was hell to pay in the form of an impossibly long lecture on etiquette and manners of a refined lady. It sounded a lot like a description of the host club patrons. I finally managed to get away but couldn't find a place to sleep with all the books. So I was left outside in the hall and got no sleep whatsoever.

Early in the morning, Obee-baba disturbed my fruitless attempts at rest at an ungodly hour to try and get me dressed up properly for school, but I evaded her and ran out the door with the same clothes I wore yesterday and nearly slept in (nearly because I didn't _actually_ sleep).

Sleeping on the bench by the bus stop yielded better results, but I'll never know how I made the half a kilometer to get to the stop without collapsing. However I did, and I managed to catch about fifteen minutes of fitful sleep before I had to give up. I could make it a day without rest. I was sure of it.

Classes were a blur and I didn't absorb a thing. My attention was so focused on not sleeping, I got poked nine times by other people's pencils to answer a teacher's question and was nailed by a paper hornet from Henry when class had ended and the teacher was getting ready to send me to detention for not noticing the fact. (And it really hurt too. His name should be Oni, not Henry.)

But I did stay awake; just no one was really concerned until club.

"Hmm, Peppermint doesn't seem on top of his game," Hikaru observed.

"Yes, I think he needs some cheering up," Kaoru agreed.

"I think we have just the thing," Hikaru reached behind him and I prepared myself to have to put out a lit stick of nitro-glycerin.

It wasn't dynamite, though. It was a red and white hoodie, identical to my old one, with one altercation. Across the front above the red pocket was a large embossed wrapped peppermint, with the word 'Peppermint' arching over it with a smaller version of the mint dotting the 'i'.

But that didn't matter, because I got my hoodie back! I snatched it and pulled off my navy one, replacing it with the new. But it felt different somehow.

The sleeves still extended past my wrists and the hem past my waist, and it was comfortable. So what was wrong?

That's when it hit me.

"What's this made of?" I said suspiciously, looking at the sleeves. They misunderstood.

"What, did we get the measurements wrong?"

My jaw dropped, "You custom made this?!"

A smile joined one twin's ear to the other, "The customers wanted you to look more presentable," Hikaru said.

"We told them you shunned the word," Kaoru commented.

"But your old hoodie went pink,"

"So we opted for un-dyeable material."

And I was supposed to be the only one making poems around here. I didn't want to think what this thing had cost.

"Thanks." Articulate as ever I was. I wondered where the punch line was.

"No problem Peppermint," they walked off, leaving me with a snickering Kyoya.

"What?" Up until this point, Kyoya hasn't said a word to me since yesterday. I yawned.

He smiled and twirled his finger, indicating for me to turn around (was he on mute? I wish I could find that remote). I played along and heard a mechanical click. I whipped back around and he smiled again, turning his laptop towards me.

Full screen, it was a picture of my back. A red and white target labeled 'Throw Candy Here' was stickered to the back of my hoodie.

"I knew it," I growled, swiping at it. I couldn't reach it and Kyoya peeled it off for me, only to promptly stick it to my entire face. Before I could rip it off (which actually took a while considering how easily he had initially gotten the damn thing off), he had taken another picture. He clicked and dragged and when I got the sticker off, he wordlessly turned the screen back to me (seriously, where _is_ that remote?).

I began to laugh and couldn't stop for a few moments not because it was funny, even though it was, but because I've dearly needed a good laugh.

He had somehow taken the target and swirled it to make it look like my head was a peppermint. Taylor Harding, the walking mint.

"Can I get a copy of that?" I snickered, "I need to hang it in my room."

With the mention of my room, I yawned.

"Why not," he shrugged, finally breaking the silence (damn you, remote holder, turn him back off!), "It certainly woke you up. If you're ready to work, there are some customers with new guests over there." Of course it was only to make me work. I snatched up the printout sourly, glaring.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** If you haven't already, go check out chapter four. I realized yesterday I had left out an entire chapter and rushed to get it on there as soon as possible. There are grammar mistakes in the author's notes and disclaimer, so obviously I was in a rush.

That aside, I hope to update soon.


	8. Sleepless Nights

**Disclaimer:** If I owned Host Club, I'd make the twins do the chicken dance for kicks

* * *

After club had finally ended, I was reminded that no matter how much better I felt at the prospect of a new hoodie, it did not change where I had to go at the end of school. Home is where the hell is, I guess.

And I still didn't know what Kyoya was doing at Mess hall either. Damn.

Obee-baba descended on me the moment I entered the house, demanding, "What is this?!" I cursed mentally as she snatched my hat off my head. I really need to remember to take that thing off more. It keeps getting spotted by my least favorite people.

"Well it certainly fits," she said disgustedly, looking me over like a crippled dog at a show (ah, the irony, comparing myself to a dog), "And this-!" she pointed to my hoodie, "Where did you get this _thing_?!" obviously she couldn't appreciate a Hiitachan work of art when she saw one. Granted, it was hardly the kind of stuff they usually did, but still.

I edged around her, backing slowly into the kitchen.

"'Peppermint'? And-oh…what is this?" she made a pass at my hoodie pocket as I moved by and filched the folded picture, "Who did this?" Obee-baba inquired neither commanding nor rhetorically (thus very, very suspicious). Apparently she can recognize expensive photo manipulation products when she saw them.

"One of my classmates," I opened the refrigerator and popped up a Coke, taking a sip, then said sarcastically, "I was lamenting my new housing situation and he wanted to cheer me up before I got suicidal." Speaking of suicidal… (sentences, that is)

"Your boyfriend?"

I spewed high-pressure carbonated beverage all over the floor (and walls, and chairs, and why not the ceilings? I was very surprised, more like abhorred, to say the least.).

"No! The very _notion_ of like towards that-no," I quickly corrected, taking a deep breath, trying to calm myself down enough not to spew curse words out with the Coke, "He is _not_ my boyfriend."

"But it is a boy you associate with," Associate? You could say that, Obee-baba. Though you may want to try more in the 'utter and complete loathing and despise' side of the spectrum.

"Does he even know you're female?" how quickly she jumps back to distain the moment I assure her I don't have a glimmer of potential for being a normal girl.

"Yes," I growled, kinda pissed now. She _did_ just insinuate something between Kyoya and me after all (other than the above mentioned utter and complete loathing and despise), "despite what may be convenient," so very, very convenient, "he does."

With that, I promptly tried to make a break for freedom, but Obee-baba slipped in the whopper before I vault up the stairs in a single leap.

"Do any of your, if you have any, other friends know that?"

Well, no, not really. If Kei and Kyo could be called my friends, even _they_ wouldn't count. They probably just thought I was just a guy with really, really bad luck and intimidating extended family. Which is almost entirely true.

I was fortunately saved from dodging that question by the door bell. Unfortunately, Obee-baba was closer, so she got to see who it was before I could.

"Who- oh my," there was that tone again, that 'what do we have here' voice, "What brings someone so esteemed here, Ootori-san?"

Oh. Damn. It.

I pushed through her, grabbed the door and closed it on her face, immediately spinning around to demand a very important question.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"Dog-sitting far trumps 'your adventures are repetitive and often hazardous' for an excuse."

I tried my hardest not glare, but failed quite miserably.

"Knowing full well the person inside that house is tied with _you_ for the bane of my existence," which is a high and dubious honor, as he well knows, "why did you come?! I'm getting the freaking Spanish Inquisition when I go back in there after _Kyoya Ootori_ shows up! I know you're the poster child for Schadenfreude, but WHY?!"

"Calm down," Kyoya rolled his eyes, though he did look the slightest (like infinitesimally) impressed I could pronounce a word in German, even if it was the closest language to the four words I could speak in English ("Dude, where's the can?!" insert crotch clutch here, optional gotta-piss dance included), "I only came to return this," he held out the navy hoodie.

I stared at it, then said exasperatedly, "Haven't we already talked about you having people for these menial tasks?"

"But if I don't come myself, how could I call myself a proper advertiser for sadism?" he grinned, and I wasn't a bit surprised he knew I had called him the poster child for taking pleasure in other's misery. No doubt he had been called it at least _once_ in his life (try at least one _hundred_). "Besides, then I couldn't use my excuse; dog-sitting."

"Well, you've sat on me long enough. Now leave." I pointed to the other side of the planet, the galaxy, the universe.

"Very well," he dropped the hoodie into my hands as I rolled my eyes. It made a crackling noise as it was transferred. It wasn't until he was halfway down the drive that I found out the source. It was a piece of cardstock in the pocket.

'_Your princes are all killed and your princesses all perish, but we think a happy ending is exactly what you wish.'_

What the-? I ran down to Kyoya and thrust it into his face, "What do you mean by this?"

He read it over and handed it back with a shrug, "I don't recognize the writing," that's because it was typed, ass-hole, "Where did you find this?"

"In here," I shook the hoodie at him.

"And when did you last check it?"

Never, of course. I hardly expect things to be shoved into my pockets for no reason.

"That's what I thought," he read my silence perfectly. Once I thought about it, it _did_ say 'we'.

He continued on his way and, confused and irritated, I marched back up the drive and slammed the door behind me.

I was bombarded the next moment.

"You're acquainted with Kyoya Ootori?" I climbed the stairs, starting to get a headache at trying to figure out who wrote the note, "Is he the one who knows your gender?" the day seemed to be catching up to me and I was suddenly really, really tired, "So then you're _well_-acquainted?" Obee-baba's third degree was really getting on my nerves.

"You know, the Ootori family is-"

I whipped around on the eleventh stair and glared darkly, "Shut up. Don't ever speak that name to me again."

I was too tired to notice Obee-baba doing something she had never done before.

She shut up.

You know, I was once told I was scary when truly angry. I wonder if what Rin had said was right. If I got pissed enough could I really scare the likes of Obee-baba or even Danna-teme?

A Fool to be Feared I'd be.

* * *

However, Obee-baba's shock at my feral look did not last long after that (try 'all of ten seconds') and she was soon shouting at me from the bottom of the stairs.

So thus I didn't get any sleep for the second night in a row between her shouting and my uncomfortable position on the floor.

I also found that I was spending less time home and more time away from the house as the next day went on to two. I hadn't napped for more than three minutes and before I knew it, three days had gone by with no real sleep whatsoever. School became a huge problem all of a sudden.

I stumbled in the general direction of the third music room, slamming into every door, wall, chair, or banister that dared cross my path. Three teachers had dropped textbooks by my head to wake me up today, and one of them dropped it _on_ my head. The news Obee-baba delivered about extending her stay to two weeks this morning didn't help, especially since it was solely to get Father a girl and make me into one. (Bonus torment: She's recently taken a fatally unhealthy interest in one devil incarnate. I sense a despairingly long-winded lecture on getting good connections to the business world.)

My shoulder glanced off a corner. It wasn't likely I would be able to take much more of this. Already in my temporary state of narcolepsy I had forgotten everyone was gone after all the detentions I had to serve. At least no one will know who put dents in all the décor. That glimmer of good luck however, like always, did not survive to take its first breath; I didn't know I was falling down the stairs until it was too late and I-

…fell asleep. Sad, I realize, to conk out the moment least needed, but when you have to sleep, your brain won't let you do anything else (it's true, look it up, I dare you. Like self-mind-control. By your brain. Scary, right?). One very important fact, however, was not that I performed the most pathetic way to die, but the fact it was just that, a performance.

I wasn't dead.

But I did have a severe desire to stay asleep. That wasn't happening though, because I definitely wasn't resting until I found out how I went from mid-air to lying on the ground. I groaned, forcing my eyes open.

"Oh, you're alive, are you?" commented an oddly sour voice, "Not too long ago you had some kind of sleep-deprived death wish."

"Wha…?" I groggily propped myself up on my elbows. Kyoya sat casually against the wall, giving me a slightly pissed-off look. He seemed out of breath for some reason, but he's hardly the kind of person to be galloping down the hallways, alone or otherwise, so there didn't seem to be any reason for it.

"You," he pointed at me, huffing nearly unnoticeably, "nearly fell to your death. The stairs may be carpeted, but they still show blood should you decide to crack open your skull on them."

My head was slowly coming around to the strange situation, "Did you…save me?" I asked uncertainly.

"Yes," he replied tersely, "I didn't see you trying to save yourself. Though I'm starting to regret doing so more and more."

_Did you _run_ to catch me?_ I thought bemusedly, _no one else was in the hall when I passed out,_ but didn't say it out loud. It was too weird.

"I assume if you witnessed me die, it would invoke tedious legal processes, right?" I was pretty sure that was exactly what had motivated him; 'if you die, it'd be a bother to clean up'.

"That would definitely be an unpleasant outcome, yes," he nodded and took in a deep breath muffled by a sigh, "But when did you last sleep anyways?"

Okay, so the fact he was avoiding such a meaningless question probably should have registered in my mind, but like I said, three days plus insomnia plus just woke up equals _so_ very out of it.

"First, third, and fourth period don't count," he reminded me, rattling off the exact teachers who had given me detention.

"I dunno," definitely not fully awake yet, "about three days ago." Which, for future reference, is _not_ healthy. But that was already pretty apparent.

"You put your books in your room," he said flatly. It hadn't been a question, but there was a distinct tone of amused disbelief in his voice, "Can you even _find_ your bed?"

"No," I admitted, slumping back down.

"Where have you been attempting to sleep?" he must have realized I wouldn't give up that easily in pursuit of a decent night's sleep.

"Everywhere," I groaned, staring at the ceiling, "Obee-baba won't shut the hell up," I subconsciously rubbed my temple at the memory. Headache on legs, that woman is.

"And you haven't tried some other way?" Kyoya asked dryly.

"Of course I have," I rolled my eyes, "In first, second, third…probably shouldn't have tried in fourth." My head throbbed as a reminder. Dropping that book on my head had not been an accident; that teacher had been _vindictive_.

"Second?" he said, surprised.

"Some girls," I waved my hand vaguely, "who seemed to know me only as 'Peppermint'," I added with the appropriate amount of dryness, "They kept me from getting caught. Probably in a vain attempt to keep me from missing host club all together."

"At home? What have you tried there?"

Didn't I already say this? I'm sure I did.

"I survive," I murmured, not wanting his pity (more like access to _more_ leverage), "Only a week and a half more." But I couldn't keep the sound of disgust from creeping into my voice.

"Only? You are no use to the club if you're constantly on the verge of collapse."

"Whatever," my eyes fluttered. I was phasing back into dreamland and I knew it.

Apparently so did Kyoya. I heard a heavy sigh and finally, "In the club room, there are some couches. I'm sure at this point you would fall asleep on jagged rocks, so you could at least use those."

I forced myself to my feet. He pointed down the hall, "Two doors that way, take a left, then two more doors," but made no attempt to get up himself.

I followed his instructions, but fell asleep just after turning the corner. I can't be sure, but it sounded like someone was muttering under their breath right after I collapsed but before I dropped asleep.

* * *

When I woke up, it was evident I was no longer passed out on the hallway floor. It was so pitch black that I would have thought I hadn't opened my eyes if not for some slivers of light peeking from the edge of a pair of apparently thick curtains. I sat up, only to find myself landing hard on cold tile floor.

"Hell, that hurt," I muttered, but got to my feet anyways. My first goal was to open those curtains. It was surprising I didn't hit anything, because I found after I opened the drapes that I was in the school infirmary and I had passed very close to the corners of the other beds.

I looked back out the window. The sun was close to the horizon, so it was likely I had only slept for about ten minutes or so. I sighed and went back to the bed. Ten minutes wasn't very long. I would likely start passing out randomly in another half an hour. I leaned back, fingers laced behind my head.

_At least I feel fine now_, I thought wistfully. I was going to enjoy these thirty minutes if I could.

But I couldn't. It was not meant to be. The moment I finished the thought, the door creaked open to admit Rin.

"You're up," she opened the door all the way and walked in, as elegant and poised as always, "I'm glad. Ootori-san only mentioned you'd sleep for awhile; I wasn't expecting you to be out for a full day."

_Full day?!_ That explained why I felt so much better. Then again, considering the circumstances, it wasn't _completely_ flabbergasting. I've been known for my sleeping habits (like my occasionally earth-shattering snores) and sleeping long and hard I _have_ been known to do.

But still, _a whole day?!_

"Really?"

Rin nodded, "Yes, I was worried you would splinter the school's foundations, you were sleeping so deeply. It does make one wonder, though," she gave me a calculating look, "what brought on such necessity."

_Ah, crap_, I thought, _she knows._ I didn't even think for a moment she didn't, even though she implied ignorance. Rin _always_ seems to know the cause of things like these.

"Ootori-san contacted me about your being, ah, _near_ the third music room," she continued without waiting for my response, "I arrived and he suggested moving you here, though he seemed very reluctant to get up and help." So he was still sitting on his ass when he called for help. I should have expected as much.

"Did he say why I was face-down in the flooring?" It would figure if Kyoya had told her about my problem. After all, I had told him my only issue with giving the books to her was an excess of _toys_.

"No," she replied to my surprise, then revealed what she had been building up to, "But I'm sure it has everything to do with your great aunt Yuna visiting."

Not 'our', but 'your', because it has always been '_Taylor's_ great aunt Yuna'. The moment I was born, much of the Harding family sheared off any relation to my mother and twin sister. If only I hadn't been born first; they would have been far more content with Rin. No one dare admit it, but they liked the 'toy woman's girl' better than me. Inheritance sucks.

A startling realization hit me, "You didn't tell _Mom_, did you?!"

The last thing I need was Mom barreling up the drive with a megaphone to demand for me to be handed over so she can hijack me and screech away to who-knows-where. And she would. Given she knew it was _Yuna_ visiting.

"No," Rin sighed. Undoubtedly she had a similar, less dramatic version of those events in her head as well, "But you do need a place to board."

"That's-!"

"Ootori-san mentioned you considering a room at 'an expansive mansion'," she interrupted astutely, "He obviously expected you to understand, but whatever he means, keep in mind that you are still very, very penniless."

Yes, dear Rin, I realize that. Never fear though, _this_ offer probably involves things more humiliating than monetary rent.

But more importantly, why is Kyoya offering me a room at _his_ mansion? Don't rich bastards like him have multiple estates? Probably is easier access to harassing me.

Before I could answer though, the door opened once more and in came Lousia.

"Rin-chan, there seems to be a problem involving Henry's telescopes and Cable. Their messages were 'Get Rin-taichou before anyone sees' and ah," Lousia smiled dryly, "'Call the paramedics, Capt'n!' respectively."

Rin smiled dryly as well and stood up, "I'm sorry, Taylor, but I'm afraid it's likely the school's ceiling beams have failed at an inopportune time. I'm sure we can finish our chat later." She said it without even laughing once, something I'm sure I couldn't pull off if I knew Cable had fallen from the sky. She bowed and left.

After I got the image of the espionage club in ruins out of my mind, I was left to ponder my choices. In reality, there were very little. Books blocked mere _access_ to my room and after I paid the medical bills from that bad chicken, Obee-baba took the meager remainder, using my choice in wardrobe as basis for my 'poor spending habits'.

Danna-teme would know that, though. He would have something else (something probably border-line illegal and way-crossing-line unpleasant) lined up for me to do as rent. He was also the only one who offered. Lovely.

I managed to somehow slip out of the school while deep in thought without being caught for uniform violation, but I was still distracted by the time I had made good distance from the school.

So distracted I didn't feel the light drizzle.

Nor when it became a breezy shower.

Not even as it turned into a windy rain.

But I did notice horizontal downpour.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Just so you know, that fourth period teacher…is based off my fourth block teacher last semester. She made a junior so freaked out, he declared "I peed myself a little just then." TWICE! She can be really scary, and she did one time stalk towards one guy (same junior) and slammed the insanely heavy textbook really hard on his desk in front of him. Her look said 'I rather bash this through your head'. (But don't worry, it was an awesome class. It was the first time I ever knew I was going to miss a piece of me by not having a class again)

One last note, while yes, I happen to not be Japanese, Taylor most certainly is. I want to apologize to everyone French, British, and especially American (no worries, I'm an American too. I just don't act it.) ahead of time. You'll see in the next chapter or so. Don't take it personally.


	9. Muddy Ride

**Disclaimer:** If I owned Host Club, there'd be more laughs than romance (keep in mind I have no heart)

* * *

Rain pounded on the street and sidewalk, and the gale whipped buckets of water into my face. All around was gray and blankness, and the only thing I could see was myself, and that's only if I didn't reach out too far. I furiously wiped the water off, but to no avail.

My hair, so normally unnoticed by me, suddenly became a lead weight trailing down my forehead, cheeks, and into my eyes. I half-heartedly brushed my bangs to the side, knowing it would not result in anything.

I could feel my clothes sag and droop and gather water by the kilograms. It felt like I was walking through molasses. Only I couldn't eat my soaked clothes. Whatever the twins had made my hoodie out of, it was about to encounter its first test. I stopped to catch my breath.

"Since when was it monsoon season?!" I demanded of the sky, but the wind and rain stole my words before I could hear them myself.

I spun around wildly, trying to find something, _anything_ that will tell me where I was. It was no use, the visibility was dead zero.

I sighed, though I couldn't hear it, and plopped down on the sidewalk.

Forget the other ten days, what was I going to do _now_?! The most I knew was that I was on a sidewalk, and there is a road nearby.

A car zoomed by, sloshing into a mud puddle and give me a thorough coat of the stuff.

"Gee," I thought out loud, "thanks for that." Definitely near a road.

As I spat out a dirt clump (at least I _hope_ it was only dirt), the only reply I received was the beat of rain to pavement.

I sighed again (though I'm pretty sure this one came out as a moan) and pondered the likelihood I would find refuge. I glared out into the blank grey before me. No way. If I wanted to find civilization, I better start walking.

Which is easier said than done when you're sopping wet, your clothes are heavy as bricks, you're still tired from sleep deprivation, and you're absolutely sure your legs will give out any moment from too much weight.

I stumbled forward like a drunk man and felt completely blind and deaf between the all of nothing I could see and the invasive drumming I could hear. I would have collapsed dramatically in exhaustion, panting, refusing to give up against all odds, like a (poorly-made) movie hook if luck hadn't intervened. Bad luck, that is.

After another car side-sprayed for the I've-lost-count-th time, I very soon realized that car had run a stop sign. I learned this through the sheer fact I soon ran into this very sign.

Right in the face.

With a loud clang, I stumbled back, dazed. I staggered to the side and tumbled off the sidewalk, successfully landing on my butt in a huge mud-filled depression.

"Crap!" I moaned, struggling to my feet. I looked up to see with horrified dismay that the sidewalk was at least three meters above me atop the hill. I swore, and tried to brush off as much mud as possible, but it didn't change that my feet were still thirty centimeters sunk into the muck.

"Double crap."

No matter how much I twisted and pulled, I couldn't dislodge my ankles, and I was rapidly giving up. I decided to give it one last tug before completely throwing in the towel. I took a deep breath and pulled, turning and bending my foot to try and free it from the mud.

I pulled too hard too quickly. I twisted my own ankle. It was almost on purpose. I would have berated myself for such a fantastically stupid feat if I wasn't in so much pain.

Because, damn, that really hurt!

I fell back down and prodded my ankle to see what I had done to it. I was rewarded with nothing until I tried to put weight on it again.

"Sh-!"

"Do you need another hospital visit?" I looked up, squinting through the rain, "Or cake! Cake makes everything better!" Hunny smiled down at me as he held his umbrella over where I sat smeared in dirt.

"Hunny-senpai? Did you find him?" I turned my head as Kaoru appeared to stare at him, "Oh wow. Good thing we thought ahead. Dirt ruined your old hoodie, so we tried to make this new one pretty stain-proof…but I'm not sure how it'll hold up to this kind of onslaught…"

He seemed to ponder this as Hunny went away for a moment, then arrived back with the remaining host club.

"Oh no! Puppy-chan's been rolling in the dirt!" Tamaki exclaimed.

"Why are you so muddy, Harding-san?" Haruhi inquired.

"Kibble-kun has an infamous sense of direction," Kyoya commented, "None at all."

I glared, but he continued, "I wonder how we are to pull him up. Even if he stands-"

"I can't stand," I interrupted his third-person review of the situation, "I did something to my ankle."

"Anything to escape working, am I right?" he sighed amusedly as he dialed something on his cell phone.

I sent him a baleful look as he described to the person on the other end about a need to 'fish a pig out of a mud pit it's wallowing in'.

"No, no. Animal control won't be necessary, just send an ambulance, he hurt his ankle some how…Yes, it's best if you do bring the mudslide equipment."

He snapped the phone shut soon after and smirked at me.

"Don't worry, they're on their way," he said in mock consolation.

I bore my teeth in a snarl.

It was only five minutes before the ambulance arrived, but already the rain had begun to let up.

"You'll have to drag him out," I heard Kyoya tell the paramedics, "he can't get out on his own."

It was amazing how those guys could dredge a water-logged 'pig' three meters uphill through mud without a mark on their white uniforms or slipping once. Once they did pull it off, however, I realized what Kyoya meant by 'mudslide equipment'.

The entire interior of the ambulance was lined in plastic. Charming.

They hauled me in and closed the door, despite Hunny's (and thus Mori's) insistence on riding. There seemed room enough in the front, however, enough that Kyoya could sit up there and antagonize me for twisting my own ankle all the way to the hospital.

Apparently the crew had been informed of the lack of emergency medical treatment by someone (I wonder who) so there were no lights or sirens, and the whole experience of riding in the ambulance was ruined when I was made to sit up and be seated in a plastic-wrapped chair next to the little window Kyoya was talking to me from. It appeared that they got another call, obviously more urgent, because they turned around to pick up someone who had fallen off a roof or something. (So I did get to see the lights and sirens. Sitting in a steel box directly below mechanical shrieks made to be heard a freaking mile away is less exicting and far less pleasent than I had thought. The lights simply made me feel like I was at a stupid American retro rave.)

Kyoya assured them it was no trouble, so I was shoved to the side to allow room for the new occupant. They arrived at the destination, and everyone rushed out to wheel in a guy on a stretcher. He didn't look too bad, but I definitely heard the chant of 'That was so stupid, that was so stupid' coming from him. Then again, it was probably a good sign. If you're stable enough to curse your own stupidity, you'll survive the consquences of it.

Imagine my surprise when they shut the doors and I come face to face with Kyo.

"Knight?!"

"That was so-Kid?!"

I stared shocked, then I recalled why they had driven off-course.

"You fell off a roof?"

Kyo winced, "Yeah…that was so stupid." I gathered as much. "See, the tube went out and we thought we just needed to wiggle the antennae a bit, so I kinda crawled out on the roof…"

"And fell off," I finished for him, "So did you fall in a mud puddle too?"

"Well, no," Kyo looked away sheepishly, "I kinda broke some stuff…You see, none of us were really, um…sober. In fact, I was pretty sloshed."

Oh. Well where was your plunger, idiot?! You could have brought _something_ for balance!

"In its sheath," he replied amusedly, probably figuring out I hadn't meant to say my thoughts out loud.

"Someone you know, Puppy-tan?" I don't know why Kyoya has felt the need to give me _more_ nicknames, but he better lay off.

"Yes," I said carefully. I can't let Kyoya know how I knew Kyo, but at the same time, I can't let Kyo know I went a snob school. "He found me that navy hoodie."

"Who's this, Kid?"

"My brave rescuer," I said sarcastically, "Though you will always be a greater knight than he."

Luckily, we were nearing the hospital, so no one got to reply to that. The ambulance dropped us off at the front, and took Kyo to Urgent Care.

The moment I limped in, however, I realized how different this hospital visit will be.

"I'm going to get agoraphobia," I muttered as I was escorted from a stadium sized lobby to a very plush hospital room right after they hosed me down and gave me a change of clothes. (Even the changing rooms are big!) I don't know what happened to my clothes afterwards.

"Stop complaining Pepper-Jester," Kyoya told me, "Mud-covered C-classers don't usually get care from this hospital." That's when I realized it wasn't just 'this hospital' but rather 'his hospital'. That explains why we weren't kicked to the curb the moment a _real_ emergency came up.

"Gee, I'm honored. What do I owe this blessing to? To gain the favor of Ootori-dono," I sighed dramatically, hand to forehead, "Unbelievable!"

"Your storyteller's showing," he commented, smirking.

"Where?!" I looked urgently at my sleeves and arms before I realized what I was doing. Damnit, he's right.

"I was charged with our club dog's upkeep," he said after a moment, in response to my previous sarcastic question.

"Does that include a kennel?" I asked sardonically, "So what will my rent be should I cave in and realize this idiotic deal is my only hope?" I asked, dropping the dog metaphor.

He smirked, "That-"

The door opened and in came the doctor.

"I am Doctor Motomi and I will be examining your foot today, Harding-sama."

Harding-sama. I can honestly say there have been few times I have been called that.

But for all his great first impressions, Motomi-sensei did not end on my good side.

"If I could see your foot for a moment?" I ignorantly lifted my foot so the doctor could see it. He prodded the joint a bit, pressed here and there and finally took the foot and bent like it was walking.

"Oooow!" There was a sadistic chuckle from the Kyoya area of the room.

"Ah, I'm afraid you twisted your ankle, Harding-sama," Motomi-sensei ever-so-gently let my ankle fall back to hanging over the edge of the table like a piece of china, but I had seen his bad side, he couldn't fool me.

"The good news is," he continued, "You did not sprain it. You should be able to walk it off, ranging from a few minutes to even days. However, _your_ twist should not take more than an hour to heal."

_Walk it off?! As in put _pressure_ on this foot?!_ Like hell.

Before I could voice my, ah, colorful opinion, Kyoya thanked Doctor Motomi, who bowed and left us alone.

"This totally sucks! Argh!" I slammed a fist down on the examination table, then whipped around to Kyoya, "Lemme guess. I was supposed to be _your_ dog for rent. So I'm useless now and have to nowhere to go."

"Not necessarily," he replied, "I'm sure I can find another way for you to pay rent and the bill."

That's right, the medical bill I remembered, "So basically," I glared, "It's not about renting a room. It's about repaying a debt."

"Several, in fact," he said with a cheerful grin, "There will be your rent, but there's also the dry cleaning cost on your clothes, but the twins may not hold you to it. They're just glad their sweatshirt proved durable for the kind of escapades _you_ get into. Tamaki isn't one to charge for services of a full search party as long as he gets to be in it, and Hunny-senpai just wants an excuse to purchase baked goods. Mori-senpai's is happy as long as Hunny-senpai is, and Haruhi-san knows too well about debt to put you in it. Me, on the other hand; I believe in equal payment for equal service."

"Meaning…?" I stared. It sure sounded like I was drowning in debt. But at the same time it sounded like no one cared. For some reason I got a distinct feeling he's pulled this kind of ambiguous crap before. He had said it with an almost practiced air.

"Meaning tomorrow is the first day of break. Haruhi-san is visiting relatives, so everyone is going on vacation elsewhere." Don't ask me why where Haruhi was going was so important to the others' plans; all I knew was they were all strangely fond of him. "Work for your rent over holiday, and you're clear the rest of your stay."

I was silent a long time. It was a generous deal (suspiciously so). Only a few days work for a week and a half stay? Not very Devil-sama-like to me. There had to be a catch. He would probably make me do something horrible. Like slaughter puppies or something. Maybe make me go without food.

Surely even Danna-teme's not that evil?

"Okay. I'll regret this, but okay. A week in hell is better than a week with Obee-baba."

Motomi-sensei came back to ask if we were ready to go. I nodded and as we walked (in my case, attempted to discreetly limp), Kyoya whispered to me, "A week _and a half_ in hell."

Reassuring.

I decided to visit Kyo before I left, just to get the full story.

At first they didn't let me in. They said something about a list of visitors they can let in, and I couldn't get them to let 'Taylor Harding' in. It took me a few minutes to ask about someone named 'Kid'.

They gave me an odd look, but fortunately looked at the sheet nonetheless.

"Oh, well, go on in," the man seemed truly shocked someone could list anyone by a noun alone.

I limped in and burst out instantly, "How plastered were you?!"

Kyo grinned, despite the arm cast on his left arm, wrist cast on his right, and leg cast on his right leg.

"Wasted enough to climb on a three-storey roof in hard rain with nothing more than a beer to keep his balance," explained Kei, who was leaning on the opposite wall. I leaned against the door.

Of course, my instant (oh so tactful) response to this was, "Your hangover will crack your skull tomorrow."

"I know," Kyo sighed, "but at least I barfed most of it up waiting for your ambulance."

"Good thing too," Kei commented, "He's what we call a con drunk. You could never tell he was anything but sober, except for the eventual barfing. But once the buzz dies down…"

"Wow," I said, "and I thought what I went through was bad."

"What _did_ you go through?" Kei asked.

"Kyo-kun didn't tell you? I was a walking ad for mud. They had the ambulance covered in plastic because of _me_."

"Come to think of it, you were in bad shape. But to cover the entire ambulance for a twisted ankle? No offense, but…"

I stiffened at Kyo's words. The real reason they had done so much for me wasn't _why_ I was called in, it was _who_ called me in.

"Beats me," I shrugged, "maybe because they thought a lot of people would be covered in mud. You had your fair share if I recall."

"True."

"Mud aside," Kei persisted, "why exactly were you at the bottom of a three meter ditch in the middle of a maelstrom?"

They just kept me dancing around the questions, don't they?

"Being severely distracted," I admitted, "I didn't realize what I was walking into until I, well, had."

"What was so important that you didn't notice the beginnings of a typhoon?" Kyo asked amusedly. At least it sounded that way. But I was starting to feel that cornered sensation that usually is reserved around Kyoya.

"Um, my current…housing situation." Let them think I'm talking about Obee-baba.

"Tyrant aunt?" Kyo nodded knowingly, though I can't figure out why. I never got into details explaining why I called my great aunt Obee-baba.

Something started to feel definitely off about this whole conversation, it seemed a lot like talking to Rin; the innate sense of being led on, but at the same time seeing no evidence to prove such a notion until it was too late.

"Yes, but ah-"

"Wicked stepmother," Kei added, a smirk I've never seen before appearing on his face.

"Quarrelsome handsome prince," Kyo agreed, smiling in mock pity.

"What-"

"No happy ending in sight, wouldn't you agree?" Kei asked Kyo.

"Happy-?"

"I'd have to," replied Kyo sadly, though it was obvious he wasn't, "perhaps milady princess wishes not for one."

_The twins,_ I thought, _there just like the Hitachiin twins._

"Surely not, noble knight," Kei said in mock aghast, "every princess wishes for a happy ending."

No. Way.

"It was you two!" I burst out in shock, to which they just grinned.

"_Your princes are all killed_," Kei said.

"_and your princesses all perish,_" Kyo continued.

"_but we think a happy ending_,"

"_is exactly what you wish_."

"You…two…"

"Knights most honorable?" Kyo inquired teasingly.

"Bastards in sheep's clothing?" Kei suggested.

"Perhaps…" they exchanged looks, "mercenaries?"

I couldn't believe it, "You were _hired_ to send me stalker-esque notes?"

They nodded in unison.

"Who?" I glared, "How long? _How much?_"

"No, no, Lady Kid," Kyo shook his head, "we're under orders. But if you figure it out on your own…"

"You'll tell me?" I finished.

"Yes," Kei said.

There were actually quite a few people, who I was at the time unaware of, that would hire two guys like them to pull this kind of crap. But I didn't know that and I couldn't call up any names that would want me to find true love or some other mushy crap like that.

"…Can I have a clue?"

They laughed uproariously at that and I was suddenly reminded of the fact they had at least four years of the most educational part of life's experience on me, likely more. I wasn't pleased with the notion they really saw me as 'kid'.

"No way!" they said, "you're getting nothing from us!"

"Don't take it too hard though," Kei said reassuringly, "now that we're blown, their only option to confront you directly."

"Or indirectly," Kyo amended cryptically, "as the case may be."

"Fine, one more question," I looked hard at them, making sure they know I won't leave without a straight answer, "Did you know I would dye my hoodie that gods-awful pink?"

"No," Kyo grinned, "you just got very lucky that day. We weren't employed until after our acquaintance was established."

"It was memorable nonetheless," Kei remembered fondly, "I think if we hadn't seen your dust mop head blowing chunks into that dumpster, we would have never taken an interest. After that, you didn't cease to entertain."

I tried to recollect what had happened when I went to the Laundromat that fateful day, but it took a few moments to remember all of it. Thinking about it from their point of view, I _was_ a riot.

I definitely recall planning my eulogy too.

"I am an entertainer after all," I said, "I live on the laugh." It was the first time I admitted to anyone outside my family that fact. Even at my most sarcastic, I aim to amuse.

If only the one who hired Sir Kyo and Steed Kei would figure out I hold no love outside laughter, things would be going my way, if only for a moment.

If only for a moment…

My life seemed to recently comprise of short bursts of good fortune interspersed among long durations of appalling luck, hasn't it?

The door opened, knocking me to the floor.

"Ow-!"

"Are you prepared to leave?" Kyoya asked amusedly.

"Sure, whatever," I growled as I got up, then looked back at Kei and Kyo, "I will find out who hired you. Be prepared."

As I closed the door behind me, I heard them both indulge in a duet of the Lion King.

"Be prepar—ed!"

I smiled as I left.

* * *

**Author's Note:** If you can guess where I got the name for that doctor from, I'll give you a cyber cookie. Clue: Mangaka. Unfortunately, on another note, Kyo and Kei will begin to take a backseat. Why?! You ask, aghast, well I'll tell you. If they keep appearing, I'll have to make them real freaking characters with real freaking flaws. I love them for the fact I _don't_ have to do that. But every time I'm dead set on that idea, one of you comes along raving about how much you adore them and I can't help but sympathize. They really are fun characters.

As for those wondering when the romance will come, look hard, be patient, and keep in mind I'm no romantic. Just a dirty pervert. - But in a 'mind always in the gutter' okay kind of way. Not 'StareAtJ00WhileJ00InTheShower' creepy kind of way. Okay? Okay!


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